


Falling Like the Stars

by adiwriting



Series: Falling [2]
Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Adoption, Alex has a complex view of the military, Discussions on fatherhood and parenting, Hurt/Comfort, Injury Recovery, Jesse Manes is a War Crime, M/M, Major Character Injury, Military, alternate universe in which Michael and Alex got married during the lost decade, and Michael has a group of military wives to look after him when Alex is away, depictions of war
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-08
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-09 17:55:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 50,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27950366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adiwriting/pseuds/adiwriting
Summary: It's not that Alex doesn't know that Michael wants a baby, or that he will be a good dad. Michael isn't the problem. He is.*Can be read independently from part 1 of this verse*
Relationships: Michael Guerin/Alex Manes
Series: Falling [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2081823
Comments: 196
Kudos: 223





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lambourn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lambourn/gifts).



> Most people that know me, know this has been a tough few months for me. But I have an amazing group of people who support me daily and make me smile and laugh endlessly. L is one of those people and for that, I wrote her a Christmas fic. 
> 
> L- I hope you forgive me. This went well beyond your original prompt of Alex trying to be a dad and going on a quest to talk to all the men of Roswell... That will come. You know me, the one-shot had to become more of an epic. <3 Thanks for letting me borrow Military Wives AU

They are taking hits from all four sides, meaning they are surrounded by insurgents. Strategically, it’s not looking great. Alex doesn’t have time to worry, however. His body goes on automatic. He starts calling out commands without pausing to think. Pausing gets men killed. Stopping gets men killed. He relies on his training and trusts it to see them through. He has to keep pushing on. For the men at his side and his man back home, he has to push through. 

Alvarez calls in air support for their coordinates, but they are still 3 minutes out. Which means they’ve got to hold the line for another 3 minutes. 15 men versus what must be 100. Shouldn’t be hard. These are the moments they are trained for. They just aren’t the moments that anyone ever hopes to see in their military career. 

But Afghanistan is a hellhole and so Alex isn’t surprised that they’ve found themselves in this position. They were supposed to be here in an advisory role. Train the Afghan National Forces up and get out. That was the mission. 

That all went to shit a few days ago. 

****

Alex is dead on his feet and needs about 18 hours of sleep after the day they’ve had. He’s still shaken up after losing four members of the Afghan National Force group they have been charged with training. His own crew is rather banged up, but all still living to fight another day. It was brutal. But it’s over. 

It’s over. 

He’ll feel more settled after he contacts home. It’s 3am back in Roswell and he won’t wake Michael who has to be up at 5am for work, but an email will suffice. He pulls open his laptop and loads his email. He’s not surprised to see that he’s got a handful of unread messages since he last checked this morning. Michael can always be counted on to send a daily update from home around dinnertime. Liz and Maria are good about checking in at least once a week as well. And there are a handful of emails from the wives of his flight crew. They often check in with him in an effort to see how their husbands are really doing. And to let him know how his husband is really doing. 

Deployments are hard, but they are made easier with a solid support system. Alex and Michael are both fortunate that they are close with the families in his flight crew. It’s a small group this deployment, but a tight one. 

He opens the message from Michael first. Always. 

> _So I went over to Mrs. Jackson’s house today to put up Christmas lights. You know she’s been struggling ever since Mr. Jackson passed away and Grant got sent to Germany again. The lights were old and broken but she was so distraught when I suggested that I go out and buy her some new ones. Apparently those were the lights she bought her first Christmas with Mr. Jackson. Which is kind of romantic in a sad kind of way. I cannot even imagine…_
> 
> _I’m honestly impressed that the lights didn’t die on her sooner. I suspect Mr. Jackson spent many hours each year repairing them… Much like I did. But 14 hours later, Mrs. Jackson’s house is primed and ready to win the neighborhood decoration contest. Which I didn’t think I would care about, but her neighbor was super smug today and I wanted to punch him, so I made sure that Mrs. Jackson’s house looked like it belonged in Whoville. Her neighbor can eat glass._
> 
> _But you’ll be proud. I didn’t actually punch him. I’ve been good._
> 
> _Anyways, I hope you’re doing okay and that you’re being safe. I’m doing okay. And before you get on me about it because I know Sara already ratted me out, yes, yesterday was tough. I wasn’t thrilled that your request for leave got denied, but I’m okay._
> 
> _The wives and I are going to have a family Christmas together. I’ve been enlisted to work the grill since the husbands are all away and apparently it’s a man’s job. I’ve already given a feminist rant about how they are strong independent women who don’t need a man around the house to get things done, but here we are. I think they just want me to feel useful or something. But truly, I’m fine. I will be okay. I’m more worried about you over there. Last time we talked, you sounded pretty sad._
> 
> _I love you and I miss you. There are only so many times you can jerk off to a picture before you just want the real thing beside you in bed._
> 
> _Take care of yourself and come back to me in one piece please._
> 
> _-Michael_

There is a photo attachment and when Alex opens it, he can’t help but smile sadly. Michael wasn’t wrong with his assessment of Mrs. Jackson’s house. It looks like a Christmas explosion worthy of a Who. The picture is nice, but it doesn’t include Michael. Alex knows there’s only one reason that would be. Michael always includes a selfie. Insurance, he calls it. Making sure that Alex remembers what he’s coming home to, as if he could ever forget. Only, Michael doesn’t include a picture if he thinks Alex might notice the light in his eyes is gone. 

Michael is struggling. He’s struggling and Alex can’t do a damn thing about it from the other side of the world. 

Alex sighs and closes the email, his heart aching for more. He wants to be able to touch Michael. He longs to hold him in his arms and speak to him in person and be able to tell for himself how he’s doing by the tone of his voice and the look in his eyes. He hates spending the holidays away from his husband. 

As tired as he is, he vows to stay awake another two hours so that he can at least call Michael and hear his voice. They both need it. 

Alex looks for the email from Sara that apparently rats Michael out. She’s Mendoza’s wife, but more importantly, she’s Michael’s closest friend next to his siblings. And she’s always brutally honest about what’s going on back home. Alex appreciates that about her. 

> _Alex-_
> 
> _I’m sure that Michael will tell you he’s fine. But I think this time is hitting him harder than usual. After he got off the phone with you yesterday, he tried to play it cool. Made it through most of Thanksgiving without letting his true feelings show. But he cracked._
> 
> _I know that you genuinely tried to get the leave, but I’m not sure he believes that. I think he believes that you felt too much responsibility to your men to leave them over the holidays in the middle of a war zone. So you didn’t ask. I think he needs to hear you say that isn’t true. I know it won’t change things, that you’ll still be deployed with my Diego for Christmas. But I think he needs to know that you at least tried._
> 
> _I’m sure I’m not telling you anything that you don’t already know... Deployments are hard on all of us, but Michael takes it the hardest. He doesn’t have kids at home to distract him from your absence like we all do._
> 
> _Anyways, I hope you are doing well and that you’re taking care of Diego. He doesn’t say it, but I know how scary it can be over there for you guys. I’m just grateful that you all have each other._
> 
> _Happy belated Thanksgiving,_
> 
> _Sara_
> 
> _PS- Thought you would enjoy these pictures. Michael is always so good with kids. He’ll make an amazing dad._

It’s not the first time that Sara has hinted that the two of them should have kids, and Alex is sure it won’t be the last. 

There are several pictures attached to the email and when Alex opens them, his heart squeezes painfully. In the first one, Michael is holding Sofia, who has her little hand wrapped around his finger. She still looks so incredibly tiny in Michael’s arms despite being 6 months old now. Michael is smiling softly as he stares at Sofia in a way that can only be described as longing. Alex bites the inside of his cheek as a wave of emotion moves over him. 

The next picture is of Michael with the twins, Daniel and Angel. He’s playing some board game with the boys, each of whom are watching Michael with the same look they always do — complete adoration. Michael’s smile is a mile wide. It’s his favorite of all of Michael’s smiles and Alex would give just about anything to keep it on Michael’s face forever. 

The final picture is of Michael and Sofia again. This time, Michael is asleep on the couch, Sofia cuddled into his chest while the Mendoza’s dog, Taki, sleeps at his feet. 

Alex is filled with such an intense desire that it surprises him. His mind starts picturing Michael asleep on their own sofa, a different baby on his chest — their own child. A little girl with curly blonde hair just like her daddy. Tears fill his eyes as he realizes just how much he actually wants this. Wants a family. 

They’ve talked about it, of course. Back when they were engaged and planning for marriage, they’d had all the typical conversations about what they both dreamed for their future. Michael has always been very clear about his desire for children. He wants the 2.5 kids and the white picket fence that neither of them had growing up. He wants to start some cheesy dad band together and bake Christmas cookies and have 4th of July barbecues and do all of the typical American family dream things. 

It’s Alex whose always been more hesitant. 

It all sounds like a beautiful dream. Something to strive for in the future. Alex just can’t picture any of it for himself now. Not while he’s still enlisted. He doesn’t want to be a dad from a distance. He doesn’t want to take the chance that he’s not just leaving a widow behind if he’s killed in action, but a child. It seems cruel. 

But now, looking at Michael with Sofia and seeing just how much Michael truly fits the role of dad, he wonders if he’s being silly for waiting. 

“Shouldn’t you be sleeping Cap?” Mendoza walks into the room they share, fresh from a shower. 

“Your wife sent me this,” he says, turning the screen so that Mendoza can see the picture of Michael with his youngest. 

Mendoza leans against the doorframe, crossing his arms and eyeing Alex critically. 

“You’ve got baby face,” Mendoza says. 

“I don’t have baby face,” Alex protests. “What the fuck is baby face?” 

“You’re thinking about how much you love Michael and want to make a baby with him.” 

Alex shakes his head and sputters. “That’s not… I’m not… That’s not even how it works.”

“Whatever man, you should do it,” he says, moving into the room to get dressed into his sweats. 

“I don’t even know if I want a baby,” Alex says, shutting his computer. 

“No? Guerin clearly does,” Mendoza says, tossing his towel to the side and laying down on his cot. 

“Michael was made to be a dad,” Alex says, smiling wistfully, thinking of all the times they’ve gone to one of their crew’s family barbecues and Michael’s spent most of the day playing with the kids. Or the numerous times Michael has volunteered their babysitting services so that their friends could have a night to themselves. He’s a natural. 

“So what’s the problem? Lock it down. Put a baby in him. Or.. whatever the gay equivalent is.” 

Alex rolls his eyes but doesn't acknowledge how crude Mendoza sounds. It’s just a part of the military he’s long since grown used to. A way the guys all speak over here that they never dare speak when they are back home with their wives. Something about the stress of war brings the frat boy out in most of them. 

“What if I’m not a good dad?” Alex says, voicing his real fear about having children. He’s always worried he would turn into his father. 

“Seriously?” Mendoza looks at him like he’s crazy. 

“Seriously.” 

Mendoza sits up. “Most of our team are toddlers. The ASNF especially. And you manage to keep them in line just fine.” 

Alex shakes his head, feeling frustrated all of a sudden. “I don’t want to just keep my kid in line. That’s all my dad ever did with us. I want to be a good father.” 

Mendoza gives him an unamused look until Alex settles back down. “You will be,” he assures him. 

“I don’t know,” Alex says. It’s not like he has an example of fatherhood to look up to. 

“Listen, I’ve met the Sarge. He’s a fucking asshole,” Mendoza says. “You’re nothing like him.” 

Alex would like to believe that’s true, but he can never be sure. Sometimes, especially after days like today where he has to shut off his humanity just to make it through, he isn’t so sure. 

“I hope not.” 

“You think he would have been able to handle the shit that happened today?” Mendoza asks, scoffing at the idea. “Please. Your dad’s a paper pusher with a power complex. Did he ever even see real combat?” 

“Once, kind of,” Alex answers. 

Mendoza’s face lights up. “Oh this I have to hear.” 

Alex tries to hide his amusement. An old habit left over from years of abuse anytime he embarrassed his father. Only, his father isn’t here and Mendoza isn’t going to rat him out. 

“He worked comms during the Gulf War for like a month, caught pneumonia, and was shipped to Europe.”

Mendoza snorts and Alex can’t help the smile that takes over his face. 

“Never left the base once and the base never took heavy fire during his time here,” Alex explains. “Though, to hear Sarge tell it, it was a true act of valor his time in the Gulf.” 

Alex used to believe that. Then he went to war for the first time and saw just how pampered his dad’s time in the service really was. 

Much easier to send your kids off to war when your only experience of it is behind the safe confines of a fortified base. He wonders if his dad ever actually served real time overseas if he’d have been so eager to send his four sons into battle. 

“And yet, all of his sons are actual medal winners.” 

Alex glares at Mendoza. He knows how much Alex hates it when he brings up his Air Force Cross. Alex didn’t fight that battle alone and he’s still annoyed that he was the one to take home the Cross while the rest of his men walked away with Bronze Stars. 

“You are nothing like your father Cap, okay?” Mendoza says. “Just trust me. I had a shitty father too and I’m a decent dad. You’ll do just fine.” 

With that, Mendoza shuts off the lights. 

Alex doesn’t close his eyes, though. He still wants to hear Michael’s voice and plans to stay up until it’s safe to call. If the way that Mendoza is tossing and turning, it doesn’t sound like he’s any closer to sleep either. 

“Mendoza?” 

“Today sucked,” he says. 

Alex can’t help but agree. He’s been with Mendoza for almost every mission he’s ever run. They saw a lot of rough stuff in Iraq, but today was brutal. Likely because they weren’t prepared for it. They’d been promised this was a relatively easy deployment. That they could take a back seat while the ANSF took charge. 

“We’ll be ready next time,” Alex says, trying his best to sound reassuring. 

“Angel asked me yesterday to promise I was coming home,” Mendoza says.

“Jesus…” Alex says. If there’s one thing they’ve all learned, it’s that you don’t make promises that you can’t keep. “What did you tell him?” 

“What do you tell a seven year old?” Mendoza asks. “I told him I’d try. But after today…” 

“We’ll be ready next time,” Alex says again, this time with more conviction. He’s determined to see his men through this. 

****

Alex hasn’t slept, which he’ll live to regret, considering they just got orders that they are heading back out today. He’d been hoping for a reprieve. That there would be some time to recover, but the insurgency isn’t going to wait around. If they don’t head out and defend the area, the enemy will take the village and they’ll have RPGs right in their backyard. Nobody wants that. 

Still, he needs to hear Michael’s voice. To see his face. So he treks out to the call center, the only place on base where the internet is connected through a landline and strong enough to support video calls. There’s a line. There always is. 

It’s about 3 people deep, so he tells Alvarez to hold his spot and sprints to grab a strong cup of coffee from chow. He needs a lot of caffeine if he’s going to stay awake and alert for this next mission. When he gets back, Alvarez is the only person in front of him. 

“You look like shit, Cap,” Alvarez says, giving him a concerned look. 

“I’ll be fine,” he says. And Alvarez knows better than to question him. 

It takes another 5 minutes, but a booth opens up and Alex is able to sit down and log himself into Skype to call Michael. The call rings several times and Alex is nervous that he’s not going to answer him. When the call eventually connects and Michael’s gorgeous face finally appears on the screen, Alex gets a lot more than he bargained for. 

His beautiful husband is in a towel, dripping wet, and looking a little frazzled. He glances around quickly to make sure that nobody else is looking over his shoulder at his half naked husband, but he’s safe. 

Alex is too stunned to say anything at first, and so he just stares. It’s not until Michael grows confused, then looks down at himself and back up with a cocky grin that Alex’s shock wears off. His husband is a menace. 

“Well that’s just mean,” he says. 

“Gotta make sure you don’t forget what you’re coming home to,” Michael says, taking a seat on their bed and adjusting the camera so that his face is completely in frame. “Can’t have you falling into no Brokeback Mountain situations over there.” 

“Not even remotely a concern,” he says with a roll of his eyes. Even if all of his men weren’t already attached, nobody here holds a candle to Michael. 

“Good,” Michael says, looking smug. 

“Did I catch you at a bad time?” Alex asks, glancing down at his watch and figuring out the time difference in his head. Michael should be getting ready for work, but unless he’s going in early, he shouldn’t have to leave for another 45 minutes. 

“I was in the shower.” 

“Sorry,” he grimaces. 

Michael shakes his head, shaking out his hair, likely soaking the pillows. Michael knows that he hates when he does that, but Alex is sure that there’s a number of things Michael does that he hates whenever he’s on deployment. 

“Shower can wait,” he says, settling back in against the pillows and looking so fucking cozy. 

Alex’s body floods with want and longing. The connection here isn’t great and that’s probably for the best. If he could see the individual droplets of water dripping down his stomach and eventually getting caught by the towel, he’d want to trace it with his tongue. Hard to scratch that itch from 7,895 miles away. 

“God, I miss you,” Alex says quietly, not wanting the other guys to hear him and give him shit. 

“You too, babe.” Michael gives him a smile that is typically reserved just for him and his heart swells painfully. “What’s wrong? You sound tired?” 

Alex shakes his head and doesn’t say anything, which is his first mistake. 

“Something happened.” 

The smile on Michael’s face drops real quick and he sits up in bed, tense. 

“No, it’s fine,” he says quickly before Michael can spiral. “We’re all accounted for.” 

Michael snorts, unimpressed. “All accounted for is only something you say after a hard mission. What happened?” 

“I can’t talk about it.” 

He’s not allowed to disclose details over an open line and the mission is still classified. Not that it would matter. Even if he was allowed to talk about it, he’s not sure he could. 

Michael sighs, but it’s not his angry sigh. He’s not glaring at Alex like he believes he is purposefully lying. It’s his frustrated sigh. He’s annoyed at the situation. Which makes two of them. 

“What do you need?” Michael asks. 

There’s a lot of things that Alex needs. He needs to not be stationed in a fucking outpost that’s only marginally more fortified than COP Keating was. He needs these Afghan soldiers to step up to the plate and be the highly trained men they were promised. He needs the insurgents to stop turning the villagers against them. He needs this fucking endless war to be over. 

But most of all, he needs a night in Michael’s arms. He needs to be home with his husband and far away from all of this noise. 

“Sara sent me a picture of you with Sofia,” he says instead.

The tension in Michael’s body relaxes and the look on his face only cements the fact that Michael Guerin was meant to be a father. 

“She’s gonna be a heartbreaker, that one. Better tell Mendoza to watch out,” Michael says, relaxing back into the pillows. “Had me wrapped around her little finger.” 

“I know you want one,” he blurts out, surprising himself. He hadn’t planned on having this conversation with Michael, not when Michael’s got to get ready for work and he’s going to have to roll out here in a bit. But here they are. 

“A baby?” Michael’s eyebrows raise. He’s just as surprised by this turn as Alex is. 

Rather than risk putting his foot in his mouth again, he simply nods, buying himself time to figure out his own feelings. 

“Well sure. I mean, you knew that.” Michael’s squirming a bit, which means he expects a fight and Alex hates that. He wasn’t trying to poke at anything, no matter how stressed out he is over here. 

“I know,” he says, hoping that his tone conveys that he’s not interested in an argument. “I just… You want one now.” 

“Oh, uh…” Michael pauses, scratching the back of his neck. “Only if you do?” He says it like it’s a question, like he’s not sure what the right answer is supposed to be. Which solidifies things for Alex. He brought this up, he may as well just be honest. 

“It scares me,” he admits. 

“Having a kid?” Michael looks surprised, which is unexpected. He assumed that Michael understood that his hesitancy in having a child is due to his fear over being a good father. If he’s surprised by this, he has no idea why Michael thought Alex kept putting it off. 

“You mean to tell me that my big strong war hero husband who earned the Air Force Cross for valor, is scared of a baby?” 

Alex laughs awkwardly. When he puts it like that, it does sound kind of silly. But still, the fear is there. 

“Aren’t you?” Alex asks. “I mean, aren’t you worried about raising a kid alone?”

“I wouldn’t be raising a kid alone. I’d have you,” he says, not missing a beat. 

“Not all the time.” 

Michael tilts his head and studies Alex the best he can over their shitty connection. “You’d still be a dad even if you were deployed.” 

“All of the hard work would fall to you,” Alex argues. “You’d resent me.” 

Michael scoffs. 

“First of all, I could never resent you.” He says it like it’s the most ridiculous thing in the world. Like the number one thing that guys around here fight with their wives about isn’t the fact that they aren’t home to help with the kids. 

“Second, sure. It wouldn’t always be easy. But Sofia was born with you guys deployed and Mendoza has never met her. For 6 months, Sara has raised 3 kids with a husband overseas and manages. I could too.” 

Alex can hear the conviction in Michael’s voice and Alex realizes what he’s always probably known but never truly wanted to face. 

“You really want this,” he says. 

Michael shrugs, looking a bit sheepish but his eyes tell another story. They are hopeful. Determined. 

“Wow, okay,” he says, for lack of anything better. 

“This isn’t you being scared about being deployed, Alex. What’s up?” 

“I’m a little bit scared of being deployed again,” he says defensively. “I mean, what if I’m KIA.” 

Michael freezes, his face dropping. “Don’t even joke.” 

“It’s a real possibility.” 

Michael never wants to talk about it, but Alex has seen enough people killed around him to know that it's naive to avoid the truth. 

“Stop,” Michael says firmly, looking more serious than he usually does. “The moment you let yourself even think death is an option is the moment you get yourself killed out there.” 

Alex grits his teeth and tries to find his patience. “Me thinking it’s an option won’t change anything. If an enemy gets a drop on me, that’s it.” 

“Alex please,” Michael says, his voice breathless like he’s holding back tears. “I need there to be zero percent of you thinking it’s even an option not to come home to me.” 

“And I need to know that you’ll be okay if I don’t,” he argues. 

“Of course I wouldn’t be okay. The fuck kind of question is that?” 

“Michael…” Alex says, his voice breaking a bit. He glances around, making sure nobody is eavesdropping. There are three other computers setup in the room, but everyone else is deeply invested in their own conversation. 

Michael doesn’t respond and they both just stare at each other, so much going unsaid. Eventually Michael softens, rubbing his hand over his face and letting out a deep breath. 

“I’d be okay Alex.” 

It’s a lie, but it’s a lie that Alex needs to hear right now so he lets it go and gets back to the conversation at hand. 

“A kid wouldn't be,” he points out. 

Michael sighs. 

“No, a kid would be as devastated as I would be,” he admits. “But they would be okay eventually. They wouldn’t grow up like us, thinking they were unloved and unwanted. They’d grow up knowing that their dad loved them infinitely, because you would. And that he fought the bad guys off and protected this family with everything he had. They would know they were wanted every day because I would tell them.” 

Alex’s heart pulls painfully, because he can picture it. He can picture a little boy laying in bed as Michael tucks him in, telling him all about his brave daddy who died protecting some other country's soldiers all with the hope of keeping the war contained to their own borders instead of our own. 

“I don’t know if I’m ready to try yet,” Alex admits, taking several measured breaths to get himself under control. He’s got to lead a mission in a few minutes and he can’t be off his game. 

“That’s okay,” Michael says with a sad smile. 

He’s not entirely sure it is, but nothing good will come out of pushing the matter, so he lets it go. 

“I’ve gotta go, we roll out soon,” he says, sniffing and discreetly wiping his eyes. 

“Promise me you’re being safe at least,” Michael says, his hand moving towards the camera then disappearing from view. If Alex had to bet, he’d say that he was caressing his face on screen and Alex longs to do the same thing. 

“I’m not taking unnecessary risks,” he says instead. It’s the best he can offer and Michael knows it. 

“I love you.” 

“I love you too,” Alex says with a smile. “Go enjoy that shower.” 

Michael’s sad look quickly morphs into a cocky smirk that Alex longs to kiss right off of his face. 

“I’ll be thinking about you in there,” he says with a wink and Alex groans. 

“You can’t get me worked up when I’m about to go out,” he complains. 

“Spousal insurance,” Michael says with a laugh. 

Alex rolls his eyes. “I miss you and I love you.” 

“Talk to you later babe,” Michael says. 

Alex doesn’t confirm. He never makes promises that he can’t keep. Instead he waves goodbye and ends the call by blowing him a kiss. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This contains so many factual inaccuracies about Afghanistan and the military as a whole. But I hope the spirit is close enough that you can excuse some of the hand-waving done for the sake of the narrative. 
> 
> I promise, the fluffier stuff will come. I mentally have to get Alex ready to be a dad first, and that takes some angst.
> 
> A lot of the war warnings in the tags come into play for this one, tread lightly if that's a trigger. Nothing happens that is worse than what you see in a typical blockbuster war movie and none of the violence/blood is explained in detail.

When the first round of gunshots come in, they are loud enough to wake Alex and Mendoza up. 

“I swear to god, if those idiots are drinking and discharging their weapon again, I’m going to murder them,” Mendoza says, sitting up in bed and rubbing his eyes. Alex doesn’t even sit up, he’s too tired. Neither of them got to bed until an hour ago. They’d been on a mission that ran longer than expected. Story of their life these days. 

Alex is about to respond when the room shakes with a blast and instantly they are wide awake and on high alert. This isn’t some guys blowing off steam at inappropriate times of the day. The base is under attack. 

Fuck. 

There isn’t time to stop and think. They jump out of bed and throw on their fatigues as quickly as humanly possible, knowing that every moment it takes them to get ready is another moment that their brothers are out there alone. They are still shoving their feet into boots when somebody pounds on their door. 

“Cap! Mendoza! We’re taking heavy fire!” Alvarez calls through the door before moving on to the rest of the rooms in the hall. 

Alex has so many questions, but right now, he needs to focus on the task at hand. Peterson has been called back to base for a few days, making Alex the most senior airmen here next to the Afghan captain on site. This outpost is Alex’s responsibility. He’s got to report to TOC and get a handle on the situation. He needs to know what they are up against and most of all, make sure that his men do everything in their power to keep the insurgency at bay. The worst thing that could happen is an enemy in the wire situation. 

Alex made a promise to himself that every single one of his men was coming home from this deployment and he refuses to accept any other alternative. This outpost is their responsibility and they are going to hold it. 

He grabs his helmet as he runs out the door, Mendoza hot on his heels. They don’t wait when they get outside. They grab weapons for themselves and start returning fire. A gunshot whizzes past him and it can’t miss him by more than a few inches. He takes cover behind a wall of sandbags. He waits for the steady stream of bullets to pause and peeks his head over the wall to quickly get his bearings before ducking again. 

“I’ve gotta get to TOC,” Alex tells Mendoza, who also peeks his head up, ducking quickly as a new wave of bullets rain down on them. 

“Good luck with that, Cap.” 

Alex sighs, eyeing the wide open space between him and TOC. There’s no cover along the way. He’ll be an easy target for the enemy and will have to run fast the moment there’s an opening. 

“Go on, I’ll cover you best I can as you go get cushy in TOC while us real men do the fighting,” Mendoza teases, and even though Alex knows it’s a joke — Mendoza is the one that pushed for him to apply for officer school — Alex is positive that he’s about to regret his promotion. 

“Fuck you,” he says in response, instead of saying what he wants to say. That he’s going to have a hard time not being in the thick of the fight at Mendoza’s side. 

Mendoza’s smirk says the things that he won’t say aloud. That he’s going to be fine, not to worry. And that he’s proud of Alex. 

A blast at their back shakes the ground and has sand clouding the air, making it impossible to see. Alex’s ears ring as his heart stops in panic, searching frantically for Mendoza, praying he hasn’t been hit. Once the dust settles a bit, Alex breathes a sigh of relief to see Mendoza in front of him, in one piece. 

“I don’t know about you, but I’m ready to end this thing,” Mendoza says. 

Alex agrees. He calls for a SITREP to figure out what they are dealing with. 

The comms are a mess of commands and calls for assistance. It takes him a minute to piece together everything, but he figures out pretty quickly that they are surrounded on all sides. 

They need support immediately. He knows that Grayson was left manning the radio at TOC when the rest of them had called it a night. If Grayson has been following the same chatter that Alex has been, he should have already called in for reinforcements. 

“What’s the ETA on QRF?” he asks, peeking his head up again. 

They have one of the ANSF men in the mortar pit struggling to get going. Hansen is atop one of the three humvees they’ve got set up around camp, returning as much fire as he can in an effort to protect the motor pit. Harper and Torres are inside the humvee, pinned down. The rest of his men are at various points around camp fighting back against the enemy. 

“QRF is thirty minutes out,” Grayson reports. 

Alex lets out a curse as Mendoza starts muttering beside him. Thirty minutes in the middle of a battle like this can quickly become a death sentence. They need air support now or they will be overtaken. 

Their enemy knows this. They’ve been watching them for months. And for just as long, Alex has been trying to warn the higher ups of this inevitability. Their assessment of this outpost is that it’s defensible. Alex doesn’t disagree that a company of experienced American soldiers could defend this outpost. However, of the 80 men stationed here, only 10 of them are American. The rest are all ANSF who are not nearly as well trained as they’ve been promised. 

He gives Mendoza a pat on the shoulder and Mendoza nods at him. It’s the only communication they need after so many years of working together. Alex begins to move towards TOC with Mendoza offering him cover while he moves through the kill zone. Once he’s safely ducking behind the wall outside of TOC, uninjured, Alex moves to offer cover while Mendoza dashes towards the mortar pit to help the Afghani soldier who’s struggling with it. 

With one last glance at his best friend, Alex steals himself to take control and steps into TOC. He immediately starts taking in intel as Grayson gets him up to speed. Once Alex understands where everyone is at, he begins calling out instructions to his own men in English. When he’s confident that his men know what to do, Alex gives out instructions to the ANSF in the limited Pashto he’s picked up. He doesn’t see one of their interpreters and they cannot wait. 

Alex stares at a map of the camp trying to figure out the best plan of attack, knowing that they are outnumbered. 

“We’re fucked,” Grayson whispers to him and Alex doesn’t disagree, but they don’t have to hold the enemy back forever. They just have to do so for the next 30 minutes until they’ve got air support. He’s determined to do at least that. 

“We fight until we can’t fight anymore, and then we keep going anyway because that’s the job. Do you copy?” he says, looking Grayson in the eyes to make sure that he’s on board. He doesn’t know Grayson as well as he knows the rest of the guys. Grayson’s new to the team and on his first real deployment to a combat zone. He arrived six weeks ago after Romano got sent home for mental health concerns. Alex can’t be holding his hand during the middle of this. He’s going to be holding enough hands just getting their Afghani soldiers to follow commands. 

“Do you copy?” he repeats when he doesn’t get an answer. 

“Yes, sir,” Grayson responds, turning back to the comms to do his job. 

Several minutes later, Captain Fazal stumbles into TOC, bleeding from a gunshot wound to the hand, but present and already barking out orders to his men. Alex asks if he needs a medic and the man responds back with a laugh that if they don’t hold the camp, they’ll all be dead soon, so what’s the point? 

Alex can appreciate his dark humor. Their situation is grim and they’ve got to find some way to push through, may as well laugh about it. 

The next several minutes pass by in a blur of action. 

A well placed RPG takes out one of their humvees and they haven’t heard from the ANSF that were manning it. The heavy fire it’s still undertaking is preventing anyone from going to render aid. 

LRAS 2 is pinned down and out of ammo. 

Mendoza’s left the motor pit in good hands and has made his way around to help cover the ammo depot so that their men can get restocked. Several RPGs have come close to blowing the entire thing. 

Li took a serious blow to his arm and Alvarez is attempting to administer aid since they’re pinned down and can’t move. 

A solid shot from Green takes out the asshole who keeps shooting off regular RPGs. 

Alex fights off every instinct in him to go out and join the fight. As a captain now, his role is to man TOC. The best way to support his men is to run point. To communicate with everyone on the field and everyone back at base and come up with a solid plan of action. He’s more useful in here than he would be out there, though it’s hard to remember that when his brothers are being shot at and he’s used to being able to have their back in a more literal sense.

He guides several members of his team through refortifying the main entrance to the camp as word comes in that the insurgents have started trying to storm the base. 

And then the power goes out from a blown generator and they lose their comms. 

“Fuck,” he curses as the men around them scramble to try and get their comms back online. “How far out was QRF?” 

“5 minutes, Sir,” Greyson says. 

It’s the most excruciating five minutes of Alex’s life, listening to gunfire rain down without knowing how his men are doing. It takes everything in him to follow protocol and stay where he is instead of grabbing a weapon and running outside like Captain Fazal does. But somehow he survives it and they manage to get comms back up just in time for Lockwood to call in coordinates to ORF. A moment later, the ground shakes with the entire might of the United States Air Force and it’s better than any Fourth of July, because Alex knows that it means that the camp is no longer in danger of being overrun. That his men will live to see another day. 

Alvarez gets Li to medbay safely. The enemy starts to retreat. And it looks like they’ve managed to get through this with injuries, but no deaths. And then Mendoza calls out over the comms in a tone that has Alex’s heart sinking. The tone that every combat vet unfortunately knows well. 

“Medic! We need a medic to Ammo Depot! Jackson’s been hit!” 

****

When Michael appears on the video screen, Alex can instantly tell that he’s not alright. His eyes are bloodshot and puffy, like he’s been crying, and he looks like he hasn’t slept. He looks about as bad as Alex feels. Before Alex can ask if he’s alright or even utter a proper greeting, Michael starts in. 

“I hate your job. I hate it,” he says. “I know I’m supposed to be the dutiful husband and not put anything more on your plate, but dammit Alex, I hate this. I hate the stupid blackout policy. As if any of us don’t know when we suddenly stop hearing from our guys that somebody got killed. We spend the entire time jumping at every crush of gravel, heart stopping with every car on the street waiting for men in uniform to show up on our doorstep with bad news. We spend the whole time worried it’s our soldier then feeling bad about it because we are hoping it’s somebody else’s husband. I  _ hate _ it. Don’t you get that?” 

Alex doesn’t know how to respond. When he first joined the military, the senior airmen would always talk about how deployments were harder on the family back home, and it sounded fake. How could anything be worse than living in a warzone? It didn’t compute. But with three tours now under his belt, Alex knows they are right. Alex’s life is bad, but at least he can do something with his worry. There’s some illusion of control on his part. He’s risking his life daily, but he doesn’t have time to dwell on it because there’s too much work to do. 

And if he dies out here, well, then he’s dead. His struggles are over. He’s not the one that has to go on without the love of his life. 

Michael doesn’t have that. He doesn’t have any of that. And if it had been Alex getting loaded up in that body bag two days ago? Then what would happen to Michael? 

Alex closes his eyes and wills those emotions back down. They have no place here. Alex cannot afford to be scared to do his job. Being a soldier isn’t a job you can do effectively if you’re timid. 

Michael sighs deeply and when Alex opens his eyes, he’s no longer glaring at him. All that’s left is worry. 

“Who was it?” Michael asks. Alex doesn’t respond right away as a wave of emotions move through him. “None of our group has heard from anyone yet, but since you’re calling me, I know the family got notified. So who was it?” 

“Jackson was KIA and Li got medevaced to Germany. They still can’t say if he’ll make it or not,” is all Alex can say without losing it. He’s lost brothers before and it’s always hard. He never gets used to it, but somehow it’s different when he feels like it was his leadership that failed them. 

“Fuck,” Michael says, rubbing his face roughly. “Was Jackson the young one?” 

Alex nods, biting his lip to stop himself from crying. Jackson was only 20. This was his first tour. He only had three more weeks left before he was scheduled to go home. Smart kid from Houston who reminded him so much of Michael that it hurt some days. Only enlisted so he could get the money to go to college and become a social studies teacher. He was a foster kid who grew up bouncing around the system until he got kicked out at 18. The only family he had was an elderly grandmother in a nursing home. Laura Jackson. 

She’s Alex’s next phone call after he hangs up with Michael. He was the acting commanding officer when Jackson died. It’s only right that she hears from him. He’ll have to call Becca Li as well, see if there’s anything they can do to help. 

“It shouldn’t have happened,” Alex whispers so that he won’t be overheard. He glances around the room, but everyone else is absorbed in their own conversations. 

“I’m sorry Alex,” Michael says, reaching up to rub at his heart, where Alex knows his tattoo is. Alex reaches up to put his hand over his own heart, where his matching one lays. “I wish I could be there to hold you and tell you that everything will be alright.” 

He smiles sadly. It’s a nice sentiment, really. And Alex would give just about anything right now for the comfort of Michael’s arms, but the truth is, there’s nothing that Michael can do about what happened. This is the ugly cost of war. 

“Do you wanna talk about it?” Michael asks. 

Alex nods, biting his lip even harder, because he wants to tell Michael every detail. Wants to explain how it was his first time manning the camp alone during a battle. Wants to tell him how awful Li had looked with his arm torn to shreds. Needs to tell him how he’d been mentoring Jackson and viewed him as a little brother. How he’d been hit in the neck from a shot that should have been impossible. Except, he can’t. 

“It’s classified,” is the only thing he’s allowed to say. 

Michael winces at what Alex knows are the two words Michael might hate every bit as much as ‘I’m being deployed.’ 

“I hate your job,” Michael says through his tears. “I hate your job and I hate the military… But I love you.” 

Alex nods and forces down his tears. He knows he should say it back, but right now he can’t say anything without the damn bursting. So instead, he just stares and tries to focus on the good. He reaches his hand out to touch the screen, willing it, just this once, to be warm to the touch like Michael’s skin would be. To let him pretend, for a moment, that he’s not stuck in some desert wasteland instead of in bed with his husband. 

He doesn’t know how long he sits there, tracing the outline of Michael’s face. Nothing feels real in the in between. There’s only ever the battles where he’s on high alert with adrenaline running high, and the time in between that passes in a fog. 

“Do you have to go soon?” Michael whispers, not wanting to break the moment. 

Alex looks up towards the door. There’s no line at the moment. Probably because everyone is down at chow or trying to catch some sleep. He turns back towards Michael and shakes his head. 

“Hey,” Michael says gently, waiting for Alex’s eyes to meet his own. “You’re going to be home soon. Don’t slip away from me before then, okay?” 

Alex can see in Michael’s eyes that death and injury isn’t the only thing that Michael is concerned about. He tries to smile and show that he’s alright so that Michael won’t worry, but it’s a lost cause. Michael has always been able to see through him. It’s a blessing and a curse. 

“What can I do, babe?” he asks, eyes full of concern. 

The sound of a high pitched giggle breaks through his fog and Alex looks over his shoulder to see that Mendoza’s got Sara and the kids on the line. The twins are making silly faces and it’s causing Sofia to erupt into the most adorable giggles. The sound is foreign. The last several days the camp has been quiet and the men haven’t had much reason to smile. 

Her giggle? It’s nice. Pleasant. Reminds Alex that there’s a whole world away from all of this mess. There is happiness beyond this desert. Mendoza lets out a choked laugh, the kind that means he’s on the verge of tears. But it’s laughter all the same and it’s like a little ray of sunlight peeking over the horizon. 

“Thank you,” Mendoza says, his voice cracking just a bit. “I needed that.” 

Alex looks away to give his friend some privacy, but not before feeling a pang in his heart that he can’t exactly name. 

He turns back to Michael, who’s looking more anxious by the minute. 

“Tell me about your day,” he says with his best smile, trying to put the stress of the last few days behind him and focus on his one good thing. 

As Michael talks about the customers he had come into the junkyard today, Alex lets his mind wander. Lets himself picture a baby on Michael’s lap. Maybe an older kid as well. They’d keep the kids oblivious to what he’s going through over here, so the conversation would stay light. For just a little sliver of time, Alex would be able to forget. He could live in a world where the biggest dramas included playground scrapes and bruises, lost toys, and Santa wish lists. 

Michael would be stressed of course. He’d have just spent the last 48 hours wondering if Alex was still alive, but he wouldn’t have been consumed by that fear. He wouldn’t have been able to slip into a depression about it, because he had the kids to care for, and Michael wouldn’t want to stress out the children. 

It’s a nice dream. 

Michael is enough, he’ll always be enough. But.. maybe… one day…. 

****

Alex sits in the front seat while Mendoza drives the humvee down one of the old dirt roads. They are on their way into one of the more remote villages so that Captain Fazal can meet with the tribal elders. Alvarez and Green are in the back bickering about kitchen tile of all things. Green’s wife is in the middle of a major kitchen remodel and her choice of tile is questionable at best. 

Alvarez rants about how they can’t go with the Cementie Cora because it’s going to clash horribly with the backsplash and ruin the entire vibe. Alex smiles to himself, because he’s already heard this rant from Michael, who sent him a very long email late last night about how he needed to talk to Green about Bailey’s abysmal decision making abilities. Michael has been walking Bailey through a DIY remodel over Skype most nights since the Greens live all the way in Nebraska. 

“Listen, she’s pregnant and hormonal. If I tell her I hate it, she’s gonna cry,” Green complains. “Manes, can’t you get Michael to do it?” 

“Why, so he’s the one that makes her cry?” Alex asks with a laugh. “Your home, your domain Green. Not our job.” 

“Man up, buddy,” Alvarez says. “You’ve gotta get that shit under control.” 

Green curses under his breath. 

It feels good being back out in the field with his boys. It’s been two weeks since the camp was nearly overrun by insurgents and they lost Jackson. His replacement is arriving tomorrow, and it’s a man both Mendoza and him served with over in Iraq a few years ago — Flannagan. He’s relieved they’ll have a familiar face out here and won’t have to completely build from scratch. 

In addition, they received news this morning that Li is out of ICU and is finally stable enough to be transferred to the states. They are expecting a full recovery with the exception of losing his left arm. They’d had to amputate from the elbow down and he’s looking at some serious PT, but considering he spent 13 days in the ICU with a nasty infection, they are all thrilled by the news. 

Perhaps the biggest weight off of Alex’s shoulders happened three days ago when Peterson returned from base, meaning Alex is no longer the acting CO for the camp. For which, he’s grateful. The paycheck that comes along with being captain is nice, but he doesn’t like the feeling of being holed up in TOC while his brothers are all in danger. 

Alex looks out the front window at the humvee ahead of them. They are moving slowly down the road and keeping their distance from the other humvees, always aware of the threat of IEDs. 

“Do you think that me being deployed would make it harder to adopt?” Alex asks Mendoza, but of course the conversation in the back abruptly ends as all eyes turn to him. 

“Holy shit, you and Michael?” Green asks. 

“I thought you didn’t even know if you wanted a baby,” Mendoza says with a shit eating grin on his face. 

“I don’t know,” Alex says with a shrug, staring out the front because it’s easier to have this conversation when he doesn’t have to look any of these guys in the face. “I’m pretty sure Michael started planning for kids the moment we started dating. I always thought we would… eventually.” 

He’s been thinking about kids for the last two weeks. Ever since he’d seen Mendoza laughing with his family. The idea of having a family of his own won’t escape him. And he’s pretty sure that Sara knows that because she keeps sending him pictures of Michael with Sofia and each one is only increasing his desire to throw caution to the wind and just have a child already. 

Whenever his mind has a spare moment to wander, it always lands on Michael with a baby. Sometimes it’s a little girl on his hip as Michael dances her around the living room. Sometimes it’s a boy laying between them as Michael points at the stars and tells their son a bedtime story worthy of the cosmos. And every time he calls Michael, he feels a tightening in his chest that he cannot name whenever Michael answers the call alone, no small hands clambering to be picked up so that they can wave at the screen. 

Their home has never felt empty before. The two of them have always been enough for Alex. So why has he been spending his breaks researching all of the options available to them for having a baby? 

“No time like the present,” Green says, patting him on the shoulder in a congratulatory fashion. Like it’s some kind of done deal. But Alex hasn’t committed to anything. Not yet. He still hasn’t even told Michael that he’s been thinking about it. Hasn’t wanted to get his hopes up in case he decides that it’s a bad idea. 

“You don’t worry about Bailey being pregnant while you’re over here?” Alex asks, skeptical. It’s one of Alex’s top concerns. That he’ll leave Michael to raise their child alone. 

“I mean, obviously. But we talked about it and we decided that we couldn’t put our life on hold for the job,” Green says. “We’d never take any steps forward.” 

It’s not the first time he’s heard this argument. Most of the military men he encounters run off of the  _ carpe diem _ mentality. But Alex has never been comfortable with jumping into anything without careful planning. He seized the day once… And Michael still doesn’t have full mobility in his hand because of it. 

“Yes, but a baby is a lot of steps forward,” Alex argues. “Especially for us.” 

“Because you’re gay or because you’re emotionally constipated?” Alvarez asks and everyone snorts as Alex flips him off and sends him a death glare. 

“I know it’s not as easy as putting on some Marvin Gaye and grabbing Guerin’s favorite wine, but there are plenty of same sex couples who have kids,” Mendoza says. 

“Guerin would make a good dad,” Alvarez says, and Alex bites down a smile at the thought because he’s still annoyed at Alvarez’s earlier comment. 

“So would you,” Mendoza says pointedly, and Alex can feel his knowing eyes on him. It’s nerve wracking at times how well the man knows him. 

“What’s holding you back?” Green asks. 

Alex shrugs. “I guess I’m just not sure it’s what I want.” 

It’s a lie. One that everyone in the humvee can hear. Mendoza opens his mouth to call him out on it when Harper’s voice comes over the comms. 

“Head’s up, we’ve got eyes on us,” he says and each of them hold their guns a little bit closer, sit up in their seats, more alert. “Mountains, 10 o’clock.” 

Alex ducks his head a bit to look up ahead to the left. It takes a minute, but he catches sight of them moving around up top. Alex holds his breath watching them for any sign of their intention. 

“You think they’re just scouts?” Mendoza asks. He’s spotted them too. His eyes are moving carefully between the road ahead and the men in the mountains. 

“Well, which shitty option would you prefer?” Alvarez asks. “Option 1, they aren’t scouts. There’s a whole group of them up there and we are about to be caught in a firefight without the high ground. Option 2, they are scouts and just reported back that the good ol’ US of A is on their way so they can prepare their biggest and best weapons. Option 1, we’re fucked now, Option 2, we’re fucked later.’ 

“Option 3, they see that we are here to liberate them. They welcome us with open arms,” Green says, tone hopeful and all of them snort. 

Alex’s eyes follow the men as they walk away from their lookout spot, whether to report back to wherever they call base or to ready an RPG, remains to be unseen. His body grows impossibly more tense and he shares a look with Mendoza. Whatever is going to come, they’ve got this because they’ve got each other. 

“We stopped winning over any hearts and minds years ago. Nobody is welcoming us with open arms anywhere,” Alvarez says. 

“And let’s not kid ourselves that we are here to liberate anyone,” Mendoza says. “History has taught brown men that’s a lie. We are here with one goal: to keep this battle on this continent and far from our own.” 

The next twenty minutes pass by tensely, their eyes trained to the mountains as they prepare for an attack. Eventually, the road curves away from the mountains and it looks like they are in the clear, but Alex doesn’t relax. He can’t. It looks like they’re looking at Option 2. And few things are worse than the anxiety of an oncoming battle but an indefinite countdown. They could be attacked at the next turn in the road; it could happen when they reach the village; or the men could wait for them to drive back to camp and attack them on their way home. 

Either way, they aren’t in the clear. 

“Head’s on a swivel boys,” Alex reminds them, as if they need it. 

“To answer your question earlier,” Mendoza says. “No, I don’t think being deployed will make it harder to adopt.” 

“Because being gay will,” Alex asks. 

Mendoza doesn’t respond, and Alex knows it’s because he refuses to ever lie or give fake platitudes and his stomach sinks. 

“Is that what you’re worried about, Manes?” Alvarez asks, sounding surprised, like he always does whenever he hears about how things are so much harder for a queer guy. 

And yeah, Alex has been doing a lot of research. There are supports in place that would help them adopt, but there’s also a lot of shit that will make it harder. And there’s no telling how easy or how hard it will be for them until they start trying. Alex is terrified of letting himself want a baby and then not being able to get one. He feels like that would break him. But worse, he  _ knows _ it would break Michael. 

Alex already puts Michael through so much by nature of his job. He doesn’t want to also be the reason why Michael can’t have the family he’s always dreamed of. It would devastate him. 

He doesn't answer. He watches the desert for movement instead. Eventually the conversation falls back to kitchen tiles and Alex can spend the rest of the drive alone with his thoughts. 

****

Alex stands outside of one of the many schools that the US military built around the country several years ago. There is laughter coming from inside and Alex is pleased to see through one of the windows that several girls are in attendance. There’s a lot about the USA’s involvement in Afghanistan that sucks. The statistics are depressing and with each passing year, it gets harder and harder for even the most hardcore of soldiers not to be jaded about it all. However, there is one statistic that Alex is proud of. The number of children enrolled in school in Afghanistan has jumped since they came to the country back in 2001. 

“Careful, you’re getting baby face again,” Mendoza teases him. 

“Or maybe I’m just enjoying the sight of something good for a fucking change,” Alex counters. 

Captain Fazal and his men are meeting with the tribal elders back in one of the homes down the street. Since they are technically here in a training capacity, all negotiating is going through the ANSF. Alex and his men are walking the perimeter of the village, on high alert since spotting those men in the mountains. It’s almost inevitable that the insurgency will come for them, it’s just a matter of when. 

“Would you guys adopt a baby or look for somebody older?” Mendoza asks, his voice quieter so as not to invite the other guys into the conversation. 

“I don’t know,” he says with a shrug. His eyes glance around, prepared for an attack at any moment. He’s especially careful to watch where he steps. Men tend to get comfortable in villages like this, assuming that IEDs won’t be placed where villagers could accidentally step on it, but Alex lost enough friends in Iraq because of that mentality to ever be anything but vigilant. “I haven’t even brought this up to Michael.”

“But you’ve thought about it,” Mendoza says, giving him a knowing look before picking up his rifle to look through the eye scope up at the mountains. 

Alex smiles in spite of himself. Of course he’s thought about it. He thinks that both of them would appreciate adopting out of the system. With the way Michael bounced around homes growing up, never finding anyone willing to take him in for longer than a handful of months... With the way that Alex lived in fear his whole life, never knowing what it felt like to be safe in his own home… It would be nice to take a kid that's had a rough life and give them a home. A real home full of endless love and security. 

But then, he also just can’t give up the idea of Michael with a baby. With their baby. A little boy or girl with Michael’s curly hair and big brown eyes. It’s silly though, Alex knows. With Michael’s DNA, they don’t even know if it’s possible for him to procreate with a human for surrogacy to be an option. And Alex will be damned if he continues the Manes’ family line. He refuses to burden any kid with his DNA. Michael would most certainly disagree with that argument, which is why Alex has never brought it up. 

The first explosion comes in quick and knocks Alex and Mendoza off their feet. If he hadn’t heard the whistle of it coming in a nanosecond before it hit, he would have assumed they’d triggered an IED. Instead, he quickly rolls close to the wall of the school for cover and waits for the sand and smoke to clear so he can see what they are dealing with. Bullets begin flying in, kicking up even more sand into the air and Alex makes sure that his feet are tucked in nice and good so he’s not hit. 

“You good?” Alex shouts, barely hearing his own voice over the ringing in his ears. 

Mendoza looks down at his leg. The pants are singed and for a moment Alex has a sinking feeling that he’s been hit, but it’s just a surface burn, thank god. Alex is about to peek over the wall to get a look at the mountains and figure out what they are dealing with when a stream of bullets come flying in. 

His first thought is of the kids in the school. They are directly in the line of fire with little defense and he feels an intense sense of duty to protect them. He’s seen enough innocent blood spilled to last a lifetime. His nightmares are often filled with burning buildings and screaming women and children, faces he’ll never forget as long as he lives. He doesn’t need any more innocent faces to haunt his dreams. 

“Green? Alvarez?” Alex calls out for a head count. First and foremost, he’s responsible for his own men. 

He looks across the way and both of them are taking cover behind a house across the street. Alvarez gives him a nod to let him know that they are okay. Green already has his gun trained on the mountain and Alex takes solace in the fact that Green is the best sniper they’ve got.

Further down the street, their team is making their way towards them ducking behind walls and homes as they go, trying to stay out of view. Confident that they’ve got backup, Alex makes a decision to follow his gut. 

“Cover me,” Alex tells Mendoza, who barely has a second to look surprised before Alex takes off towards the school and Mendoza curses at him while he begins shooting up into the mountains. Several bullets hit the dirt near his feet, but thankfully nothing lands. 

When he pushes into the school, his eyes immediately seek out the children. They are huddled in a corner of the room away from the windows as their teacher tries to block as many of them as he can with his body. They are in the safest possible position in the room, and while it’s not perfect, it gives Alex some comfort that they are out of the immediate line of fire. They won’t get hit by any bullets but there’s nothing he can do to save them if an RBG comes their way. 

He moves towards the window, keeping low so that he won’t be seen, eyes trained on the mountains. He pulls his gun up to look through the scope, hoping to catch sight of the assholes shooting so close to a school. If these men are at all local, which he suspects they are, they know there are children in the building and they don’t care. After all, what does a terrorist care about protecting a school that allows girls to learn to read? 

A moment later, Mendoza enters the school and moves to the window beside his. 

“I really hate you,” he grumbles, but Alex knows he doesn’t mean it. 

“What do we see?” Alex asks into the comms, he can’t see any movement in the mountains, but that doesn’t mean that they aren’t there. Though the lack of intense fire coming their way gives him hope that they aren’t dealing with a large group, but he’s been wrong before. 

“I’ve got our guy with the RBG, but I can’t get a clean shot,” Green says. Alex can hear the frustration in his voice. “2 o’clock about 500 mikes up. Behind that tree.” 

Alex raises up a bit to get a better look and that’s when another round of shots come in from their 11 o’clock. He ducks out of the way, trusting the building walls to protect him while Alvarez makes quick work of the man shooting at them. 

“Do we think it’s just the two?” Alvarez asks, sounding skeptical. 

Alex is about to answer when another RPG is fired. He sees it coming right for them and immediately leaps towards the children to cover them with his body, should the walls not hold up. The blast hits hard, shaking the entire foundation. Part of a wall crumbles and all the windows break. Chucks of ceiling rain down on them. 

“Got ‘em,” Green shouts. “Fucking asshole!”

Alex sits up and looks at the children, all of whom are crying at this point. 

“Are you hurt?” he asks, before realizing they don’t speak English. He searches his brain for the Pashto word for hurt but comes up short. He looks over the children, but apart from a few scrapes, nobody seems to be hurt. 

“Do we see anyone else?” Alex asks into the comms as one of the smallest kids reaches out for him. Alex doesn’t want to put his gun down, not when the enemy is still out there, but he also is looking into this little girl’s terrified eyes and his heart absolutely shatters. He may not be from a war torn country, but he knows the feeling of being 8 years old and fearing for your life. 

“That can’t be it,” Mendoza says, eyes scanning the mountains. 

“I don’t see anyone else, Cap,” Green says. 

“Only one way to find out,” Alvarez comments and Alex doesn’t have to see his man to know what he’s doing. He knows his team well. Alvarez is trying to draw their fire, get the enemy to shoot so that they can get a location on them. They all wait for a solid minute, when nothing happens, Alvarez shoots a few warning shots into the mountains to make sure they know exactly where he is. But nothing. 

Alex breathes a sigh of relief and allows the little girl to climb into his lap. Her little arms go around his neck and her tears begin to soak into his fatigues. He leaves one hand on his rifle, just in case. For starters, he doesn’t want one of the kids to get a hold of it, but more importantly, he doesn’t entirely trust that their attackers are simply a two man team. It isn’t impossible — it’s happened before. People take opportunities as they come to attack US soldiers, and their enemies aren’t afraid of suicide missions. But typically, attacks on them are much larger and more coordinated. 

Mendoza remains at the window, eyes scanning, shaking his head. 

“What?” Alex asks. 

“Something doesn’t feel right,” he says, and Alex tries to put the girl down so that he can go look, but she refuses to let go of him. Instead he moves closer to the small opening in the wall, holding her close, but refusing to get close enough to become a target. He maneuvers the girl so that she’s behind him as she continues to cling to his back. 

Mendoza picks up a piece of cloth that’s fallen to the floor. A jacket perhaps? Alex doesn’t get a good look at it. Mendoza holds it out into the opening of the wall and instantly a shot comes in. All the kids scream and the girls hands pull at his shirt so hard that he nearly chokes. 

“Got ‘em,” Green calls out. 

Mendoza breathes a sigh of relief and slumps back against the wall. The stress of the last few minutes leaves his body. 

“Good call,” Alex tells him. 

They stay in their space for another few minutes to make sure the coast is clear, but when no additional shots come in, Alex gives the all clear. Mendoza and Alex try to help the teacher calm the frightened students, though, with limited Pashto, Alex isn’t sure it’s actually a help. The teacher gets all of the students to line up, so they can go home to their parents, who are surely worried about them after this ordeal. There is no way that the rest of the villagers missed what happened. The same little girl clings to his hand and pulls him into line with her. 

“It’s a good look on you, Cap,” Mendoza says with a smile, nodding to the little girl on his arm. Alex ducks his head to cover his reaction as a warm feeling moves through him. 

“Winning over hearts and minds are we?” Alvarez teases as Alex and Mendoza step out of the school and back onto the street. Their team is all there, eyeing the mountains cautiously. There are several parents standing around, crying as their kids run into their arms. The girl at his side still clings to him and Alex wonders where her parents are. Wonders if they know what happened. Has a dark cynical thought that maybe her parents are like his own and don’t care. 

“I’m not winning over anything, she’s just scared,” Alex says, forgoing the addition of any curse words. He’s pretty sure that the girl doesn’t know English, but Alex can’t bring himself to call Alvarez an asshole like he wants to with a kid at his side. 

Alex hears Mendoza’s shocked intake of breath and his firm hand grip his sleeve. When he looks up, he only gets about a second to register that there is a man standing too close for comfort wearing more C4 than they’ll honestly survive. He has a moment to think of Michael and the life he has waiting for him back home, but that moment passes too quickly. He’s shouting for his team to take cover as he uses his body to shield the little girl the best he can. One of his men gets off a shot, but not before the bomb goes off. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because Christi thought everyone needed to know this without waiting for the next chapter: The little girl survives ;)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note that this chapter contains a scene at the end with Jesse Manes, and because he's the ACTUAL WORST, it thus contains slurs and ablism.

Consciousness comes to Alex in waves, head underwater from a strong dose of sedatives. It’s difficult to distinguish between what’s real and what’s a dream. There’s a flash of white light. Sometimes he’s standing outside of the cabin in the aftermath of a snow storm, cuddling close to Michael as the cold wind hits, letting his perpetually overheated body keep him warm. It’s Christmas and they are alone together for the first time in months. The world is painted white, all is calm, and he’s happier than he’s been in a long time. At peace. 

Other times, the flash of white is accompanied by glass shattering, fire crackling, and people screaming. There’s an intense wave of heat that can’t burn out the very real fear that this is it. There’s pain like he’s never known making his nerves go haywire. And part of him thinks it would be easier to die, but he’s got a child to protect, men to look after, and a husband waiting on him back home.

Those are the dreams, he thinks. Memories? They’re too distant with blurred edges and muted colors, but they feel real enough to be a memory. 

There’s a steady, persistent beeping. Unfamiliar voices talk about surgeries and treatments. This, he thinks,  _ is _ real, though he can’t quite break through to see for sure. Hands poke and prod at him and occasionally he feels like he’s about to break the surface, a wave of pain hits him so debilitating he nearly passes out. And then something cool moves through his veins and he sinks below again. 

There’s some kind of argument happening. With a medic? He was yelling at a medic over the sound of a chopper as dust and sand kicked up all around them. He’d wanted them to take care of the girl? Or take the girl with them for care? It’s all a blur, but it feels real enough that he’s pretty sure that’s a memory too. He wants to ask somebody, but his body won’t wake. It feels like he’s being held under. 

There are all of these shattered pieces that should go back together, but he can’t figure out how they fit. 

He remembers the desert. The sand all around, nothing green for miles and miles. Then again, there's always desert. Every memory he has is of rock and sand. But this place feels different. It’s less like home. Hotter. More desolate. Desperate. This isn’t the kind of desert where he finds himself laid out on a blanket with the man he loves, mapping out all the places that make each other moan every bit as much as they map out the stars and the places they’d escape to together if they could. 

No. This isn’t a desert filled with promise. This land is filled with terror and loss. It’s where hopes and dreams go to die. 

Afghanistan, he remembers. That’s where he was stationed last. 

There are children. A boy and a girl. They are playing in the street, darting around parked cars while they chase after each other. The girl is giggling while the boy calls after her and he remembers feeling like their mission might have a purpose after all… That was before the IED. 

No. 

That’s a different memory. A different deployment in a different country. 

There were children, though. Alex remembers there being children. 

A house near the mountains. Green grass under their feet. Michael running around the yard with Li’s little girl on his shoulders while Mendoza’s twins chase after him, yelling about stealing the treasure from Davy Jones. Li’s german shepherd is darting away with a ball that is apparently the magical treasure they are after. The kids are in heaven and Michael’s smile is bigger than Alex has seen it since the wedding. And Alex thinks, perhaps. Perhaps this is something they’ll have one day. The yard with the dog and the kids. 

That’s not right though. That had been when they’d been stationed in Colorado Springs two years ago for a few weeks and Li’s family had them all over to celebrate their collective promotions. 

Alex searches his mind for the right memory. A girl. Definitely a girl. She was holding his hand? They were at a school, he thinks as the building forms more clearly in his mind. He’d been inside protecting the children from the incoming gunfire and explosions. He remembers being angry. Pissed off at the insurgency for their continued disregard for any human life in pursuit of their goals. The US has their own faults, he’s well aware, but there are some lines they don’t cross, and he’s yet to understand if the newer insurgency popping up these days even has a line. 

But they’d gotten the assholes. He knows they did. So what is he missing? 

A sharp pain, more agonizing than anything he’s ever experienced before moves up his thigh, then his hip and side until it’s so intense that it feels like every nerve in his body is on fire. It reaches down and grabs hold of him and yanks him to the surface roughly, where the world is in chaos. Bodies move around him quickly and somebody is screaming out. His vision blurs and his stomach twists as it all becomes too much. 

It takes him a solid minute to realize that the screaming is his own and when he looks down at his leg, he understands why. 

Half of it is gone. 

His panic increases tenfold as he tries to remember what happened and can’t. The only thing keeping him from freaking out that he’s been kidnapped by the insurgency and taking out every person in the room is the USA patch on their fatigues. 

His hand flies out to grab hold of one of the nurses moving around him, needing answers. She looks down at him and says something indistinguishable with a kind smile. Then she gestures to the needle in her hand and the IV next to him. He lets go and she pushes some kind of medicine into the IV. Once she’s done, she places a hand on his shoulder and tries to comfort him. It’s hard to notice with the way his entire body feels like it’s on fire, but ice floods his veins and soon, the waves return and he’s sinking once more. 

****

The first time Alex wakes of his own accord without being dragged from the abyss by his pain, Mendoza is at his side and it does wonders to help his anxiety to see a familiar face. 

“Hey Cap, how are you feeling?” he asks. 

Alex blinks several times as he looks around, trying to orient himself. 

“Where are we?” he asks, though it’s only one of a million questions running through his head. 

“Landstuhl,” Mendoza says. 

Alex looks down at his hands and torso, trying to figure out where he’s been shot. He’s covered in scrapes, bruises, and smaller bandages, but nothing that warrants being transported to Germany for care. When he goes to move the blanket off of his legs, Mendoza grabs his hands to stop him. Alex’s heart freezes and his stomach drops as he waits for an explanation, fearing the worst. 

“There was a suicide bomber,” he explains carefully, like he thinks Alex will scare easily. “You and I were closest to the blast.” 

Alex pulls his hands out of Mendoza’s grasp and tugs the blanket off of his legs staring down in horror as he sees the extent of the damage. His left leg is wrapped from hip to ankle in a giant bandage, but that’s hardly the concern because his right leg is gone from below the knee. His heartbeat starts to race as his mind flies into a panic. 

He can’t process anything beyond the fact that his leg is gone. His leg is gone and he has no memory of how this happened. He doesn’t remember getting hurt. It doesn’t make any sense that he would just wake up and a whole limb is missing. 

The air feels too thick and his lungs burn. He can’t get in a good breath. He looks at Mendoza for help, confused and struggling to connect the dots. 

“Breathe,” Mendoza says. “I know this is a lot, but it could always be worse. Plenty of guys lose a leg and go on to live full lives. Just breathe.” 

Alex tries, but he can’t get any air into his lungs. He doesn’t remember any suicide bomber. The last thing he remembers is being inside the school and being safe. They’d been safe. Targets eliminated. Children protected. The end. 

“How?” he says, shaking his head. If there had really been a suicide bomber and they’d been close to the blast, they shouldn’t even be alive. Maybe Mendoza got something wrong? 

“We got lucky. The bomb was faulty and didn’t go off correctly,” Mendoza explains, understanding what he’s asking for right away. “That’s the only reason we’re still alive.” 

As Mendoza says it, Alex can vaguely picture it. He can see the man coming up to them as they were walking the children out to their parents. He can see the flash of white light. 

“The girl?” he asks, remembering that he’d tried to protect her. 

“A little banged up, but she’s alive because of you,” Mendoza says. 

“Where is she?” He looks around as if she’s going to magically appear out of nowhere. 

Mendoza doesn’t answer right away and Alex can see in his face that he’s not going to like the response. 

“Hopefully, she’s at a regional hospital by now,” he says. 

Alex shakes his head, because he knows better. Realistically, she’s being treated by some village elder and the family is just hoping for the best. He remembers it now, the pieces are coming back to him. He’d argued with the medic to bring the girl with them on the MEDEVAC but it hadn’t been protocol and they’d had to leave her behind. Alex had been crushed. Despite the nearly debilitating pain of his injuries, getting that girl treatment had been his biggest concern and there was nothing he could do. 

There is so much Alex wants to say about the pointlessness of war. About how it’s always the innocent bystanders who pay the steepest price. About how the US pours so much money into research, technology, and weapons, but can’t manage to provide the most basic care to the people hurt as a result of their war. About how the destruction they leave in their wake only fuels the agenda of whatever radical group pops up next. What do they really do? In all of their missions, all of the times they risk their life, what is it really for? Do they do anything that actually matters? 

Mendoza’s heard it all before. He agrees with Alex on most of it. They both believe in the idea of protecting their loved ones back home, but know that’s rarely the mission they are put on. Rehashing grievances isn’t productive. Nor is drowning himself in guilt. Instead, he pushes his feelings about the girl he left behind down to live with all of his other sins of war. Locks it away in a box with all of his biggest regrets. His PTSD will bring it out to play with eventually, but for now, he has to just keep putting one foot in front of the other. 

Or rather… 

Alex snorts and finds himself laughing through tears as he stares down at the bandaged stump, trying to wrap his mind around how he’s supposed to move forward when his leg is gone. 

“They couldn’t save it,” Mendoza says, sympathetic. 

Alex wipes his tears and looks up at Mendoza, actually taking him in for the first time. He’s in a hospital gown himself, which makes sense. They wouldn’t have transported him to Germany for a joyride. He’s in a wheelchair and has bandages on his arms and legs, along with what looks like a burn mark peeking out from behind a bandage on his neck. 

“What happened to you?” he asks, unsure if he really wants to know the answer to that question, but he needs to. Mendoza’s health is his responsibility. Both as a captain but also as his friend. He’d promised himself that he would make sure everyone made it out of Afghanistan alive. He’d already lost Jackson. Li is still recovering from his injuries. So far, he’s turned out to be a pretty shitty leader. 

“Spinal injury,” Mendoza says with a tight smile. Now that he says it, Alex can see that he’s holding himself carefully, not moving with his usual ease. “I’m going to need surgery on it before they can really say what the extent of the damage will be, but they tell me they are hopeful. Whatever the fuck that’s supposed to mean.” 

“Have they called Sara?” he asks, switching over into caretaker mode. Alex always does best when he can focus his thoughts outward rather than in. 

“I talked to her as soon as we landed.” 

It’s good. Family members tend to react better when they can hear directly from their airman rather than some stranger. And it’s good to hear from a loved one on the tail end of a trauma. He’s sure hearing Sara’s voice was helpful. 

“How’d she take it?” he asks. 

“She had a lot of questions and demanded to talk to the doctor of course,” Mendoza says with a fond roll of his eyes. Sara is an ER nurse, so he’s sure that she’s got a lot of opinions about her husband’s care. “The kids just want to know when I’m going to be home.” 

Alex moves to sit up in bed, careful not to disturb his legs, and he looks around for a phone. “I’m gonna make sure you get shipped back to the states as soon as possible.” 

“No need,” Mendoza says. “You and I are on the next plane out of here, which should be in a day or two.” 

He nods. It makes sense. Neither of them are going to be fit to return to battle for a long time, if ever. The goal is always to treat the soldiers and return them to their station in a timely manner whenever possible. And when it’s not possible, they like to get their men home so that they can get treatment closer to their loved ones. 

“Fort Sam?” he asks, assuming that’s where they’ll be sent. It’s DoD’s largest facility and the closest in-patient hospital to home that would be capable of managing their care. 

“It’s been awhile since we were in San Antonio together,” Mendoza says, trying to sound upbeat about it all. “Maybe we can convince a nurse to let us out for Panchos and Gringos. I’ve been craving their chilaquiles.” 

He knows that Mendoza wants to joke and laugh away the fear and helplessness they both are feeling, but he just can’t quite yet. Not without apologizing first. 

“I know we’ve done everything together since basic, but this wasn’t somewhere I wanted you to follow me to,” Alex says. 

“Well, you’re useless without me,” he teases. 

Alex nods, it’s probably true. In all the years he’s been in the USAF, he’d only ever spent time away from Mendoza when he went into OTS. The two of them are a team. He doesn’t function at his best without Mendoza at his side. Which is why it kills him that he wasn’t able to take better care of his man. 

“I’m sorry,” Alex says. 

Mendoza shakes his head and reaches out to put a hand on his shoulder. “We should have died. There’s no reason that bomb shouldn’t have gone off properly. The fact that we are alive, is a miracle. We should be thankful. That I’ll live to see my kids grow up? That’s a gift. And one I refuse to let those assholes take away from me by drowning myself in pity over what I’ve lost.” 

Alex isn’t generally a glass half full kind of person. He tends to see the worst case scenario in every situation and dwells on it. Worries over it and obsessively plans ways to combat against it. Mendoza is different and it’s one of the reasons he’s so good for Alex. He’s easygoing and tries to see the best in any situation and he’s got a remarkable ability to get Alex to do the same. 

“Are Alvarez and Green alright?” he asks. 

“Minor injuries, nothing that’ll get them sent home,” Mendoza says. 

Alex nods, processing Mendoza’s words about gratitude sinking in. Alex has heard horror stories about sucide bombers and the destruction they cause. They should have all died. The fact that there aren’t four flag draped caskets on their way home right now is something he can focus on. 

“Michael and Sara are going to meet us in San Antonio,” Mendoza tells him after a few minutes of silence. 

Michael. Fuck. 

Alex hadn’t even thought about how Michael must be handling the news. Or what he’s been told. The military will have contacted him, thankfully. One of the biggest motivating factors to them getting married the moment Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell was repealed was making sure that Michael would always be informed. Still, though the military will make it a priority to keep him up to date on Alex’s condition, that doesn’t mean Michael will be able to rest easy. Alex getting injured is pretty much a worst case scenario as far as Michael is concerned. Short of death, it’s the thing Michael fears the most. 

“I talked to him a few hours ago. He’s with Sara,” Mendoza says. “He’ll be happy to hear from you.” 

“Was he okay?” 

Mendoza shrugs. “He’ll be better once he hears your voice, I’m sure.” 

Which is Mendoza’s tactful way of saying that Michael is a mess. Of course he is. He’s got years of abandonment issues and his multiple deployments have never helped.

“Call Michael. You both need each other right now,” he says, giving Alex a pointed look. 

He’s right. Alex knows that he’s right. Michael needs to hear from him to know that he’s okay, but Alex also needs Michael to tell him that he’s okay. That this isn’t the end of the world. He moves to sit up so that he can look for a phone, but the movement sends a shooting pain up his entire side and has him screaming out. A nurse rushes in and attempts to give him more pain medication, but he refuses. Not until he can talk to Michael.

****

Despite the fact that it’s 4am in New Mexico, Alex calls home and is unsurprised to see Michael answer the video call on the first ring. When the video loads and Michael sees him, he instantly starts laughing through a relieved sob. It’s difficult to notice with the naked eye, but Alex can see that he hasn’t slept in a few days and he realizes that he’s never asked Mendoza how long it’s been since the attack. The circles under Michael’s eyes are darker than normal. His curls are greasy and flat, lacking their usual volume and life. 

Alex should say something to reassure him, to make sure that he’s alright, but words fail him. The sight of Michael is enough for the events of the attack and its aftermath to catch up to him. It’s all too much and any comfort he could give gets caught in his throat as his own eyes fill with tears. 

Michael shifts around in his seat and for a moment Alex gets a glimpse of the Mendoza’s living room. Michael is clearly sleeping there. Or  _ not _ sleeping there by the look of him. It’s good, though. He’s glad that he’s got Sara and isn’t alone. She’ll make sure that his thoughts don’t stumble too far into chaos and the kids will be a welcome distraction. 

Once Michael settles, they stay like that, silently staring at each other and fighting to get their emotions in check for several minutes. There’s a pull at his navel and a tightening of his chest and he’s never felt such a strong need to be home before as he does now. He needs to be in their bed, wrapped safely in Michael’s arms where the world can’t touch him. Can’t touch either of them. 

“They took my leg,” he finally whispers, still unsure if he’s ready to admit the truth to himself just yet, let alone to Michael. It’s a scary thing. A reality he can’t escape and a future that’s no longer clear. 

“They told me,” Michael whispers back, pulling Alex’s favorite blanket tighter around himself. “I’m glad to see you awake. They told me they were keeping you sedated because you were in so much pain every time you’d wake up.” 

Michael’s voice catches on the word ‘pain’ and Alex wants nothing more than to be able to reach through the screen and touch him, to assure him that he’s alright. The doctors and nurses here have been doing their best to make sure that he doesn’t feel the full extent of his injuries. He looks at the IV to his side and the steady drip of morphine and fluids. 

“I’m very high but awake,” he admits. 

Michael laughs lightly and gives him a soft smile. “A high Alex Manes. I haven’t had the pleasure since high school. Do you remember when we used to light up in the desert together?” 

Alex remembers long, lazy summer afternoons in the back of Michael's truck, passing a joint between them as they wait for sunset together, mapping out all of the places that made them moan during the in between. 

“The high isn’t nearly as fun without you at my side,” he admits, hand unconsciously moving beside him where Michael would usually be if he was at home. 

“I wish I could be there,” Michael says, sadly. “They wouldn’t fly me out since they said you were getting transferred soon. But I’m going to be in San Antonio the minute your plane lands. I promise. I’m going to be by your side.” 

Not that Alex doubted Michael for a second, but it’s still a relief to hear. More of a relief than he expected. Alex is typically an independent person. Growing up the way he did, he learned quickly not to depend on anyone but himself. But he hadn’t realized just how badly he needed Michael with him through all of this until now. 

“I look forward to it,” he says, voice cracking with emotion and the look on Michael’s face tells him that he’s struggling with the distance just as badly. 

“To be clear, I’m mad at you,” Michael says, though there’s no bite to his words. “I told you that you weren’t allowed to get hurt and you didn’t listen. But Mendoza says you were saving a little girl when it happened. I’m proud of you babe.” 

At the mention of the little girl, a rage starts to bubble within him. “They shot up a school,” Alex says, remembering the attack. 

It pisses him off even more to think that the suicide bomber had run right into a crowd with children present to attack them when they could have easily waited until they were clear from the group and headed back to their vehicles. They’d wanted maximum carnage even if it included their own people. 

“I heard,” Michael says, the light and loving tone replaced with a more somber one. 

“I fucking hate Afghanistan,” he spits out, shaking his head as angry tears fill his eyes. He’s torn between being glad he doesn’t have to go back and feeling a responsibility for the men he’d left behind. 

“Me too,” Michael says. “Are we at the point where I’m allowed to trash the war and curse the military for sending you there?” 

“Were you ever holding back before?” Alex asks, momentarily amused before falling back into his anger. 

“You never should have been over there in the first place. Fighting somebody else’s war for them,” he says. Alex knows it’s far more complicated than Michael makes it out to be, but the sentiment rings true. Alex shouldn’t have been deployed in the first place. The military had lost sight of the true mission long ago. “You never would have been hurt.” 

“I wasn’t trying to break my promise to you. I just…” He tries to think of a tactful way to tell Michael that he hadn’t thought about himself or even Michael in the moment — at least not until the final moment. The truth is that Alex has to be able to push all of that stuff aside in order to function. Hesitancy gets men killed. 

“You acted on instinct to save a child,” Michael finishes for him. He doesn’t look upset, rather, he looks fond. He clearly has more to say but doesn’t. 

“What?” 

Michael hesitates for another moment before finally saying, “You’re going to make an amazing father one day.” 

The words hit him hard, heart swelling with emotion. It’s not the first time that Michael has said something similar to him before, but it’s the first time that Alex doesn’t immediately want to argue with him or tell him he’s wrong. 

“One day?” he says instead. 

“The moment you’re ready,” Michael rushes to clarify. 

It’s what Michael’s always said. Pushing down his own need to be a father in deference to Alex’s need for more time. Only, Michael has no idea that Alex has been thinking more and more about parenthood over the last few weeks. Alex has been too nervous to tell him, worried that he’d get Michael’s hopes up for something that he couldn’t end up delivering on. He’d told himself that they’d have time for that conversation later. But Mendoza is right, they should have died in that blast and all of his plans for waiting would have been a joke. 

“What if I told you that I’ve been looking into adoption options…” he says, eyeing Michael carefully to gauge his reaction. 

Michael sits up in his seat and schools his expression, but Alex can see the hope in his eyes. “Are you serious?” 

“I don’t want to keep waiting on a future we might never get,” he admits. “I got a second chance and I don’t want to waste it.” 

Michael bites back a smile, but it’s clearly a struggle. “Are you just saying this because you’re high as a kite?” 

Alex doesn’t feel that high at the moment, even though he knows he’s gotta be because he can’t feel anything from the waist down. “Possibly? But I was sober when I started my research.” 

Michael’s eyes fill with tears as he allows himself to smile. His hand moves out and though Alex can’t see it, he’s sure that Michael is touching his face on the screen. 

“I would like nothing more than to start a family with you, Alex Manes.” 

_ Start a family.  _

The words echo in his head as love and hope floods his system. His heart feels like it might explode with emotion. He’s sure that he’s smiling brighter than he has any right to in light of his current situation, but he can’t help it. He hadn’t been sure before, but hearing Michael say the word family settled it for him. He knows in his bones that it’s the right move for them. 

“I love you,” Michael says with a look of pure love in his eyes that Alex never feels deserving of but knows he’s lucky to have. 

“Yeah? Even though there’s only 3/4ths of me?” he asks, unsure. Michael hasn’t seen him since the accident. Maybe he’ll change his mind. 

“Don’t do that.” Michael gives him a stern look. “Don’t make jokes to cover up your insecurity. You never loved me any less when my hand got messed up, I won’t love you any less, leg or not.” 

Alex doesn’t realize that he’s started crying until Michael starts shushing him and telling him that everything is alright.

“I’ve already started plans to build you a prosthesis,” Michael says, grabbing a notebook and flipping it open to a page before holding it up to the camera for Alex to see that he’s begun sketching out designs and has written multiple equations in the margins. 

“The VA will give me one for free,” he tells him. 

Michael scoffs. “Yeah, some crap generic thing. That’s not happening. I’m building you one and we’re going to have you back on your feet in no time.” 

Alex relaxes back into the pillows and listens fondly as Michael starts telling him all about his plans, from the materials he’ll use to the design features he thinks will make it best suited for Alex’s lifestyle. If he closes his eyes and ignores the beeping of the heart rate monitor, he could almost pretend they are back in Roswell, down in Michael’s bunker talking about his latest discovery. 

“I love you,” he blurts out as Michael is midway through a discussion about shock absorbers. 

Michael pauses and tilts his head, studying Alex carefully as he yawns. “I love you more. When you’re stateside, I can show you the rest of these designs.”

It’s not that he’s ready to say goodbye to Michael. He’d gladly stay on the line until they are reunited in San Antonio, but the meds are starting to drag him back under and he wants to make sure they have a chance to say goodbye before he falls asleep on Michael. 

“Promise me that you’ll sleep,” Alex says, hating how tired Michael looks and knowing it’s because of him. 

“I promise you I’ll try,” he says with a smirk that has Alex rolling his eyes. 

“Michael—” 

“I’ll actually try,” he says again, this time honestly. “It’ll be easier now that I’ve heard from you.” 

“Same.” 

“You’ll call me later?” he asks. 

Alex nods. “Of course.” 

It takes a few more ‘I love yous’ and promises to take care, but they eventually hang up and Alex is able to slip into a dreamless, drug fueled sleep.

****

When the door opens, the last person Alex expects or wants to see walk in is his father. Dressed in fatigues and looking completely put out, his dad smiles condescendingly to the nurse who’d been checking his chart. She quickly shows herself out and promises Alex that she’ll be back later to check on him. 

The door closes behind her, leaving them alone and the heart rate monitor at his side starts beeping more frequently, giving away his terror despite how badly he’s trying to hide it. It’s been a long time since he’s needed to fear his father. Married life has done him well. Michael’s loving hands have healed over the old emotional scars and helped him feel whole again. Being in the military has granted him the gift of space and time. Space away from his dad with his regular deployments. Time to learn and grow into a man that doesn’t have to cower under his dad’s threats. After all, he doesn’t just outrank his father, he’s also spent time working missions with Navy SEALs who have been more than happy to work with him on his hand to hand combat skills. 

But now, that’s all out the window. He’s laying here, 3/4ths of a man, completely helpless against whatever his dad could decide to do to him and he’s scared. 

He holds his breath as he watches his dad slowly move around the room, inspecting all of the equipment he’s hooked up to then picking up his chart. As if he has any medical knowledge to read the damn things, though Alex is sure he’ll offer an opinion regardless. 

“I read the after action report,” his dad says, giving him a stern look as he puts down the chart. 

Alex doesn’t say anything, just waits to hear all of the ways that he messed up. As if his dad has any experience on the battlefield. He looks at him, waiting for some kind of an explanation, but Alex has none to give. He stands by his actions. His team had done everything they could to take out the threat, and they’d succeeded. The enemy on the mountain top had been eliminated. 

Nothing short of clairvoyance would have stopped the suicide bomber from attacking them. 

“After the bomber made himself known, rather than grab your gun and eliminate him, you decided to protect the enemy,” he says with such distaste that Alex can’t help but snort. 

“I think you mean I saved a child,” he argues, even though he knows it’s not a great idea to provoke his dad given his physical state. “Some people would call that heroism.” 

Not his dad of course, but you know, people with actual beating hearts. Even Michael had admitted to being proud of him despite the fact that it had cost him his leg. 

“It’s stupidity,” he snaps. “Now you’re a cripple and useless to the mission and your unit. You’re an officer Alexander. You’re supposed to set an example for your team.” 

The accusation hits him hard. He knows that he’s useless like this, but to hear somebody else say it hurts. He already feels guilty enough about leaving his team behind, undermanned to fight the enemy alone. Still, he can’t just agree with his father, especially when he stands by his actions that day, even if they led him to this. 

“I do set an example,” he says, keeping his chin up and refusing to cower even though he just wants to curl up in a ball and cry. 

His pain meds are starting to wear off and his leg is throbbing, but that’s nothing in the face of the pain Jesse Manes is capable of inflicting on him both physically and emotionally. 

His dad laughs harshly. “By being weak?” 

“By showing compassion,” he argues.

“Compassion has no place in a war zone,” his dad says. Signaling he’s still full of complete bullshit. 

“What would you know?” Alex asks. “You’ve never been to war.” 

Jesse’s eyes grow murderous at the accusation and Alex’s body tenses. “I served in the Gulf.” 

He cannot help the snort that escapes him, which is a mistake. Alex has plenty of experience with how poorly his father reacts to Alex disrespecting him. His dad moves towards the bed and Alex flinches, his body preparing for attack. His dad looks like he’s going to strangle him when the door opens and Mendoza rolls in, wearing a bright smile that’s clearly forced. 

He’s heard enough stories from Alex about his dad to know exactly what he’s walking in on. 

“Master Sergeant Manes, I didn’t know you were in Germany,” he says, rolling all the way into the room, taking care to leave the door open behind him. 

His dad takes a few steps back, and unclenches his fists, though not without visible effort Alex notes. Mendoza and his dad stare at each other for several tense moments, but, to his credit, Mendoza doesn’t flinch. 

“You doing alright, Cap?” Mendoza asks, moving himself so that he’s next to the bed. 

“Yeah, I’m good,” he says, and with Mendoza beside him, he finds that it’s actually true. They might both be limited by their injuries, but Alex likes their odds. He turns back to his father, finding his voice. “War is what happens when there’s a lack of compassion and diplomacy.” 

“War is what happens because there is a threat that needs to be eliminated,” Jesse says, crossing his arms and doing his best to appear intimidating. 

Mendoza barely manages to hide his eye roll from his dad, after all, Alex might outrank his dad, but Mendoza doesn’t. 

“The whole of Afghanistan is not a threat to us,” Alex explains as calmly as he can manage given how being around his father always makes his blood boil. “It’s one group of extremists that don’t even represent a majority of the population. If we treat them all as the enemy, that’s what they’ll become.” 

“You are incredibly naive, always have been,” his dad says. “And this,” he gestures to Alex’s newly amputated leg, “Just proves it.” 

“All do respect, Sir, but your son is one of the best men we had out there,” Mendoza says. 

Alex thinks it’s sweet of him to say, but it’s pointless. His father will never be impressed with anything he does, because he’ll never see Alex as a real Manes man. His dad stopped respecting him the moment he realized he was gay and no amount of bronze and silver stars will change that. 

His dad looks like he wants to argue with Mendoza, but can’t exactly do that without looking like an abusive asshole. Of which, he is, but his dad has always worked hard to make sure that people don’t see that side of him. It’s the reason why DCFS had never been able to remove Alex from his home no matter how many times his teachers called on his behalf. 

“I requested that you be brought stateside for PT as soon as possible. No use being out of commission any longer than you have to. Uncle Sam doesn’t pay you to sit on your ass,” his dad says, not an ounce of compassion in his gaze. 

And with that, he leaves without a backwards glance. 

“If I could punch him, without getting a letter of reprimand, I would,” Mendoza says the moment his dad is out of earshot. 

“I doubt you’d get a letter of reprimand,” Alex argues. “I’d make sure it was a letter of counseling at most. Not as many people love my dad and will rush to defend him as he thinks.” 

“Yeah, because he’s the worst. You good?” He looks Alex over, clearly eyeing him for any sign of struggle. 

“I’ll be better once I know I’m no longer at the same base as him,” he admits. 

“That is one thing to miss about the desert I guess, Jesse Manes free,” Mendoza says. “I don’t understand how you actually worry you could end up like him. You and the Sarge couldn’t be more different.” 

“I’m laying in a hospital bed after losing my leg in a war he sent me to when he blackmailed me and forced me to enlist. I’m his own son and even after nearly losing my life, he still can’t find an ounce of compassion for me. I’m his family,” Alex says, bitterly. 

“Fuck him. He’s not your family. I am. Michael is. Sara and the kids are. He’s a waste of space. A fucking war crime. I’d like to drop him in the middle of Afghanistan and see how long he lasts. I bet he doesn’t survive the night.” 

“Yeah...” he agrees absentmindedly, lost in his own thoughts. 

Mendoza is right. Alex isn’t in any danger of becoming his father. In the middle of a battle when his life was on the line, his instinct is to protect others. To take care of the weak. He has compassion, even for his enemy. His dad has none of that. He’s selfish and cruel and only cares about his own image.

If anyone Alex loved were ever to be injured, he would do everything in his power to be at their bedside, making sure they felt loved and cared for. He wouldn’t chastise them or call them stupid and useless. 

“Seriously, Cap. Tell me where to bury the body and use that brain of yours to keep me out of Leavenworth and I’ll do it,” Mendoza says. 

“Oh no, when the day comes, I’m going to be the one to kill him,” Alex says. “You can be my alibi.” 

Mendoza smiles at him. “I’m okay with this plan. If anyone ever asks, you were with me all night. We were playing Call of Duty in my basement.” 

“Deal.” 

Alex is gonna be a great dad, because he’s going to do everything that Jesse Manes never did. He’s going to love unconditionally and put his child’s needs above his own. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Towards the end of this chapter in the last scene, Alex gets pretty into his feelings and uses some ableist language about himself (we can thank Jesse Manes for that). Being a special ed teacher who believes firmly in the idea that a disability does not define a person, it killed me slightly to include this, however, not including moments of self-doubt and self-hate within Alex's healing process felt disingenuous for his journey. So here we are. If ableist language is triggering for you, please skip the last scene that starts with Alex in Michael's truck.

When they land at Fort Sam, Alex can’t walk off the plane and run into Michael’s arms like he wants to. There are no twirling hugs like the last time Alex came home from deployment. He is wheeled off the plane attached to an IV, which makes all the cliched romantic reunions he’d been dreaming about a lot more challenging. And yet, it’s perfect because it’s Michael. 

It’s  _ home _ . 

Michael is waiting for him on the tarmac next to Sara. Angel is on his shoulders waving a poster that says “ ~~Welkum~~ Welcome Home Daddy!” Daniel is clinging to his side, hugging a teddy bear to his chest and holding onto a bouquet of balloons. Alex takes in a big breath of air as it hits him just how right the entire thing looks. Michael with kids. Michael as a father. 

Michael reaches up and puts Angel on the ground and both boys run right at their dad, leaving Michael behind in their wake. Alex rolls over to him, taking him in. He’s wearing a smile brighter than the sun and looks more handsome than he has any right to. The pixelated connection via Skype doesn’t do his husband justice as the sun hits his curls and he looks like a goddamn dream. 

“Hey,” Alex says, feeling a bit shy and worried that his appearance doesn’t measure up to the picture Michael has of him in his mind. Of the man he was before his injury. He’s tired and on top of being in a hospital, he’s spent the last 2 days traveling here from Germany. He doesn’t know the last time he looked in a mirror. He hasn’t shaved nor even brushed his hair. He can’t imagine he’s anything to write home about. 

Still, Michael is looking at him like he holds the stars in his hands and the pull of gravity in his eyes. It takes Alex’s breath away. 

“Come here,” Michael says. He places both hands on the armrests of the wheelchair and leans in for a kiss, stopping just before reaching his target, pausing, waiting, allowing Alex to take the final step on his own. He doesn’t hesitate to take the bait. 

Their lips meet softly at first and Michael lets out an adorable satisfied hum the moment they do. But there’s something different about the kiss. Michael is holding back in a way he never has. He can feel how tentative Michael is with him and that infuriates him. His leg is gone, but the rest of him is fine. He doesn’t need to be coddled, he just needs to be loved. 

His hands bury themselves into his hair, deepening their kiss. He pulls Michael closer to him as a flood of want moves through his system. It’s been so long since they’ve been able to see each other and Alex has missed him so much it’s hurt at times. He tilts his head back further, letting Michael invade his space. He doesn’t realize that the actions are making his chair move backwards until Daniel yelps and something grabs onto his chair, halting its movement. 

“You wanna mount him right here, Guerin?” Mendoza asks, teasing him as Alex blushes. 

Mendoza’s got Sofia in his arms and Angel in his lap, who promptly asks what the word mount means. Michael snorts and Sara smacks Mendoza’s shoulder. She glares and chastises him for saying anything in front of the kids. 

“I would, but this film is rated PG at the moment,” Michael says, stepping away from Alex and ruffling Daniel’s hair. He reaches to take Angel out of Mendoza’s lap and places him on his hip. “She’s pretty perfect, isn’t she?” he asks, nodding towards Sofia. 

Alex looks over at his brother, smiling at the look of awe and wonder on his face while holding his daughter for the first time. They’d been deployed when she’d been born. For the last seven months, he’d only ever seen her in pictures and video chats. 

“She cries a lot,” Angel says, resting his head on Michael’s shoulder and the sight of it all tugs at Alex’s heart. Both the look of Mendoza holding his daughter for the first time and the image of Michael with a kid have him wanting that moment for himself. He’d already been sure about adoption when they talked about it over the phone, but now that they’ve agreed to it, he’s impatient to get the ball rolling. 

“Uncle Alex?” Daniel says, tugging on the sleeve of Alex’s sweatshirt. 

“Yeah?” Alex asks, looking over at the kid, taking notice of how tall he’d gotten while they’d been overseas. It’s always difficult for Alex to take in the changes in the world that occur while they’re on deployments. Logically, he knows the world can’t stop turning just because they are on the other side of it, but he hates thinking about his loved ones having a whole life without him. 

His eyes dart over to Michael momentarily. He hates thinking of Michael having a life without him. He wants every minute with him. Every lazy Sunday, every home cooked meal, every rainy day, and every sleepy goodnight kiss. The time they have together is never enough. 

“Uncle Mikey said you don’t like signs even though I color real well,” he says, looking mildly offended that Alex could possibly dislike anything he’d create. He’s about to clarify that it’s not that he doesn’t like welcome home signs, but rather he dislikes the way they always include words like ‘hero’ on them and tend to glorify their service as if their time overseas should be celebrated. But Daniel is six so he doesn’t really need Alex to get on a political soapbox. 

“I’m sure I would have liked a sign if you’d made it,” Alex tells him, earning Michael a glare from Daniel. 

“Just show him what you got him instead,” Michael tells him with a good natured roll of the eyes. 

Daniel hands him a teddy bear wearing a camouflage T-shirt that says ‘get well soon’ on it. Alex is sure to give his godson the appropriate gasp of shock and appreciation, letting him know how impressed he is with the gift. It brings a proud smile to Daniel’s face as he tells Alex that he’s named the bear Miles Morales, but Alex can just call him Miles. 

“You can sleep with him so you don’t get bad dreams,” he says. 

It’s a sweet thought, but only one thing has ever been able to keep the bad dreams away, and he married him. He looks up at Michael who gives him a knowing wink. 

“Thank you, that’s very thoughtful,” Alex tells Daniel. 

Daniel moves to climb into Alex’s lap, but Sara reaches out to stop him and reminds him that he has to be gentle with Uncle Alex. Alex wants to tell him that it’s okay, that he’s fine, but the truth is that he probably can’t handle a kid in his lap at the moment. His left thigh is still badly burnt and pretty much any pressure against his left leg angers his oversensitive nerves. 

“Miles and you match,” Angel says, reaching his hand out to point at the teddy bear. And when Alex inspects the bear more carefully, he notices that he’s missing part of his leg. Somebody has cut off his foot and sewn him back together, and given that Sara can’t sew for shit, Alex assumes it’s Michael’s handiwork. 

“Yeah, but he’s still good,” Daniel says without a thought and it warms Alex’s heart. 

“Yeah, he’s still good,” Michael agrees, leaning over so that he can place a kiss to Alex’s forehead. “You ready to get out of here?” 

“Uncle Mikey is going to help us make cookies for Santa,” Angel says, clapping his hands. 

Michael gives him a sheepish look as he scratches the back of his neck. “I uh, told them I would do it when we still thought your plane wasn’t getting in until this afternoon.” 

“Santa has to have cookies or he won’t go to all the houses,” Angel explains to Alex, as if he might not understand the concept. 

Michael is still looking at him reluctantly. 

“You know, it’s been a long two days of traveling. I’m sure once I get another dose of pain meds, I’ll be out cold for a few hours,” Alex tells him, reluctant to see Michael go but also understanding that it’s not fair to make everyone spend their entire Christmas in the hospital. 

Sara puts her hand on Michael’s shoulder before he can protest. “Why don’t we have grandma make the cookies and she can bring them to the hospital for us to decorate, that way we can spend more time with Daddy. How does that sound?” 

She says it in that overexcited tone that parents always get when they want their kid to think that something is a far better idea than it really is. Neither boy answers right away, clearly trying to figure out if they are being tricked or not. 

“That okay with you bud?” Michael asks, his eyes hopeful. 

“Yeah, that way grandma can see Daddy, too,” Angel says. 

“That’s very generous of you,” Sara says, giving her son a kiss on the head. 

Mendoza had grown up about an hour west of the city and his parents still live there. Alex had met them numerous times, mostly whenever he’s been stationed at Lackland and in need of a home cooked meal. It’s where Michael and the Mendoza’s were planning on staying before they’d been approved for 2 rooms at Fisher House. Alex is relieved that Michael will only be in the building next door rather than an hour away. They’ve been apart for too long and he doesn’t need any more distance between them than is necessary due to his injury. 

“Are you  _ sure _ that Santa will be able to find us here?” Daniel asks, reaching up to take Sara’s hand. 

“Santa is magic, of course he’ll be able to find you,” she informs him. “But only if you’re good and get along with your brother the rest of the day.” With Mendoza still hypnotized by the sleeping Sofia, she moves to push her husband’s chair from behind, one handed, with the practiced ease one gets after working in a hospital for ten years. 

“I always get along with Angel,” Daniel protests, causing Michael to snort. “We didn’t fight the whole way here!” 

“That’s because Angel drove with me in the truck and you were with your mom,” Michael says. 

Daniel just shrugs and skips ahead of them, asking Alex if he’s fast enough to beat him in a race. One glare from the nurse who’s in charge of escorting them to the hospital stops him from racing off after the boy. Michael sets Angel down to run after his brother and moves behind Alex to push his wheelchair. 

“You know when I asked you to be home in time for Christmas, this wasn’t what I had in mind,” Michael says into his ear as they begin moving towards their transport to the hospital. 

“I know it’s not Christmas at the cabin,” Alex says, reaching back to hold onto Michael’s arm, needing to be touching him. “But this will be good still, right?” 

“Alex, I don’t need anything for Christmas but you,” he says, stopping the wheelchair to move around and stand in front of him so that he can see his face. “Yeah, this is still good.” 

****

Alex lays in the hospital bed, resting most of his weight against Michael, who is laying beside him, barely fitting, body half hanging off but insisting that he’s completely comfortable. Alex is 99% sure that he’s using his telekinesis to stop himself from falling right off. Not that Alex is complaining. The chair that he’d been sitting in earlier was entirely too far. 

He’s in a lazy fog thanks to the pain meds coursing through his body and he’s barely paying any mind to the movie Michael is playing on the iPad he brought. Not that he would need to follow the movie closely, he knows it by heart. Home Alone. Michael’s favorite Christmas movie. 

In his highly medicated state, he can almost pretend they are at the cabin in front of the fire, watching movies while sharing a large bowl of popcorn. The two of them cuddled up under blankets, Alex burrowed into Michael’s side for warmth after a day outside in the snow. 

“Do you think when I get out of here, we can go to the cabin?” he asks, eyes closed, head resting against Michael’s heart. 

Michael runs his fingers through his hair, scratching his scalp gently in a way that feels like absolute heaven. 

“You do everything the doctors tell you and get through your rehab, and I’ll make sure we get to the cabin,” Michael promises him, placing a kiss to his temple. 

“I think I’d like to take our kid sledding there,” he says slowly, the drugs are catching up to him and he wants to be careful not to slur his speech. “My brothers and I always loved sledding down that one big hill out past the stream.” 

Michael’s fingers shake ever so slightly and his breath catches. “Alex Manes, you are incredibly high right now,” he teases. “But yes, that sounds perfect.” 

He is high right now, and his tongue is looser than normal, heart and hope less guarded. 

“What’s something you want to do with our kids?” he asks. 

“Kids? Plural?” Michael asks, surprised. “We don’t even have one yet.” 

Alex reaches up to trace his finger against the arm around his shoulders. “I mean, don’t you want them to have somebody to play with?” 

“Of course,” he agrees. “We can have three kids.” 

“And a puppy,” Alex says excitedly, causing Michael to chuckle. 

“Why don’t we just focus on getting the one baby first,” he says, placing a finger under his chin and guiding Alex to look at him. When he does, Michael gives him a soft kiss. “But yes, I do eventually want to have all of the babies with you.” 

“And a puppy,” he adds, making sure Michael doesn’t forget. The puppy is very important. He’d always wanted one growing up, but his dad had never allowed it. 

“And a puppy. A German Shepard, or something else that can help protect the children,” Michael agrees. 

Alex nods. There had been a German Shepard in his unit back in Iraq and he’d loved the thing. It would be perfect for them. Especially if they ever move out onto a big ranch like they’d always talked about doing one day. A German Shepard would love all the work. 

He hums happily at the image, eyes closing as he feels himself start to nod off. A ranch full of animals. A little girl feeding a horse. A boy helping Michael repair one of the fences. And a toddler chasing after the family dog while Alex works on his computer from the back porch managing the finances for the ranch. It’s a dream he’s only allowed himself to start picturing very recently. 

“You didn’t answer the question,” he tells Michael a few minutes later when he breaks back to the surface. 

“What’s something I want to do with the kids?” Michael asks and Alex nods. He thinks about it for a moment before answering. “Anything? Everything? I just want to be there, you know? When they are scared or hurt or confused or when they are happy and excited, I just want to be there with them. And for them to know I’ll be there for them. Always.” 

Alex thinks about how his own father was never there for him. How his mother left him with barely a backwards glance. He thinks about how, in all the homes Michael lived in growing up, he never once had an adult who supported him or cared for him. He refuses to allow that for his own child. 

“I don’t think you have to worry about our kids not knowing how much you love and support them,” Alex says. “I mean, the Mendoza’s are only our god kids and they know you’d walk in front of a bus for them. They adore you.” 

“They adore you too,” Michael assures him. “You should hear the way they talk about you when you’re gone. They think you’re a hero.” 

“I’m not a hero,” he says quickly. 

“You are to them,” Michael says. “And not because of your job, but because of what you do for them. You’re going to be an amazing father Alex.” 

“I hope so,” he says. “I want to be.” 

The door opens and a nurse walks in to check on Alex. She takes one look at Michael and says, “Nuh-up. Off.” 

Michael gives her his best puppy dog eyes, the ones that always do Alex in. 

“It’s been seven months,” Alex argues. 

She points to the chair beside the bed where Michael is supposed to be sitting but Alex had talked him out of barely a minute after the nurse had left the last time. 

“It’s Christmas,” Michael argues. 

“He’s injured and you could jostle his leg,” she says, with her hands on her hips, wearing a no nonsense expression on her face. 

“I’m fine,” Alex assures her. 

“See, he’s fine,” Michael says, using his most charming voice. 

She rolls her eyes and stares at them another minute. When Michael doesn’t move, she sighs and her hands drop to her sides. She moves to his bedside to check his vitals and update his chart. All the while playfully glaring at Michael as he asks her questions about what she’s doing and what it means for Alex. She answers all of his questions before setting the chart back down and looking at both of them carefully. 

“I didn’t see this, I never gave you permission,” she says firmly. They both nod and she walks out of the room grumbling about how Christmas always makes her soft. 

“Remind me to give her a cookie,” Alex says, leaning back into Michael’s arms. Cuddling with Michael has the added benefit of also being a heat pack, soothing his sore muscles. 

“Okay, but one of the ones that Daniel decorated right? Cause I’m pretty sure Angel was picking his nose the entire time,” Michael says. 

Alex snorts and they both end up cracking up laughing. 

It’s good to be home. 

****

It’s New Year’s Eve and Michael is wearing a ridiculous headband that informs him as much along with an insane amount of beads around his neck, all of which he got from the twins. They’d celebrated a fake midnight with the Mendoza’s at 7pm so that Sara could get back to their room at Fisher House and put the kids to bed. Now, Alex is on his crutches in the hallway, making one of his mandatory rounds. His doctor insists that it’s good for him to be up and moving around, but it’s honestly brutal. If staying in bed wouldn’t risk prolonging his stay at the hospital, he wouldn't do it at all. 

“Just a few more steps, that’s right, good. Just like that babe. You’re doing great,” Michael tells him as he walks backwards and stays just barely out of arms reach in case Alex falls. They both know that he could use his powers to catch him, but in a public, military run facility, Michael can’t chance it. 

“You’re almost there. Keep going. You’ve got this. So good, baby,” he continues to say and Alex wants to murder him. 

“Why do I feel like I’m one of your horses you’re trying to train?” he grumbles, stopping all together to glare at Michael. 

Michael gives him a sheepish look. “Too much?” 

“Just a bit,” he bites back. 

“Sorry babe,” he says, putting his hands into his pockets. “What would you like me to do instead? What would be most helpful?” 

Getting me out of this place? He thinks, but doesn’t say it. He knows that if he were ready to be released, Michael would be harassing the doctors every second of the day to do so. Michael doesn’t like being here any more than Alex does. It’s possible that Michael hates it even more. Being around military doctors reminds him of every nightmare he’s ever had. 

Alex lets out a breath, leaning against the wall for support, taking some of the pressure off of his arms and leg. They are both getting restless in here, but Alex is the only one allowing himself to take it out on Michael and that’s not fair. He closes his eyes and grounds himself. Reminds himself that he won’t be here forever and the best thing he can do is to follow the doctors orders so that he can get out of here as soon as humanly possible. 

Michael steps into Alex’s space and leans in close, resting his forehead against his own. They breathe in the same air for several moments and Alex can feel Michael’s hand heat up slightly as it rests against his heart, where his tattoo is. It doesn’t burn hot enough to leave a handprint — it wouldn’t be safe, not here — but it’s warm enough to remind Alex that he’s not alone and that he’s loved. 

“Distract me,” he says. 

Michael nods, leaning back and waiting until Alex is steady on his crutches again before taking several steps back. 

“So the first thing we’re going to have to do is pick an adoption agency that we trust,” Michael says. He pauses and Alex waits for him to continue before realizing that Michael is waiting for him to take another step. Alex rolls his eyes, the little shit. He takes a step and Michael smiles. 

“I’ve looked into several. We want to find one that is completely comfortable and supportive of us as prospective parents,” he says. Stopping again until Alex takes another step. “We don’t want to get stuck with somebody who is homophobic or ableist or some shit.” 

Alex agrees, and takes another step, breathing through gritted teeth as he works to push past the discomfort. 

“I’ve been asking around and I found a few that I think we should look into. We’ll both need to feel comfortable with whoever our agent will be,” he says. 

“What happens after we find an agent we like?” Alex asks as he takes another step. 

He’d looked into adoption when he was overseas, but his research had mostly been focused on adoption laws and LGBTQ rights, not on the actual specifics of an adoption itself. 

“We’ll have to fill out an application and go through an approval process,” Michael explains, taking a look behind him to see how far away they are from the door. Alex tries not to feel discouraged about how much they still have to go. 

“And if we get approved?” he asks, choosing not to even ask what they’ll do if they don’t get approved. He’s been trying not to focus on those fears because they have the capacity to become loud enough to have him cancelling the entire thing. 

“We’ll create a family profile for moms to look at and pick from,” he says. He waits for Alex to take another step. “Once a mom picks us, it’ll be a lot of waiting until the baby is born and we can take them home.” 

Alex nods. They can do that. When Michael spells it out for him like that, it doesn’t seem like such an insurmountable task. 

“We’ll of course need to fund the adoption, but the DoD will help with some of that, and we’ve got our savings,” he explains. 

The two of them discuss the financial cost of adoption and before Alex realizes it, he’s collapsing into his bed, ready for another round of pain meds and a nap. He makes Michael promise him that he’ll wake him up before midnight so that he can get his New Year’s kiss. He wants to make sure he rings in the new year right. 

****

Michael lays in bed next to Alex, chin resting on his shoulder as he watches him type away at the computer on his lap. Alex has the adoption website loaded and has been working on their application for the last 45 minutes, both of them paranoid they’ll get something wrong and not get approved. 

“Our household income,” Alex says, eyes furrowed as he goes to pull up his accounts to verify. It always gets confusing with all of the extra pay he brings in on various deployments. 

“Legal income?” Michael asks and when Alex looks up from the screen to look at him, he can tell he’s not joking. 

“What illegal income do you have?” Alex asks, concerned. 

He knows that Michael used to pawn copper wire back in the day and do some other shady stuff for money when he was living out of his truck, but Alex was under the impression that all stopped when they moved in together and Michael started making a more steady wage. He’s ready to lecture him about needing a clean record to adopt and the high security clearances for his job, but the look of hurt and annoyance on Michael’s face stops any accusations. 

“Sanders still pays me cash cause the old man refuses to pay taxes,” Michael says, sitting back and crossing his arms defensively. “Why? What did you think I meant?” 

Alex looks down sheepishly, not wanting to start a fight. He’s only just gotten released from the hospital yesterday and the stress from his time there hasn’t quite dissipated for either of them. 

“I don’t know,” he says. 

Michael rolls his eyes, but thankfully doesn’t push the issue either. “Well Sanders pays me cash and I don’t claim any of the money I make on the projects I pick up here and there.” 

Alex nods. He knew this much. They’ve talked about it before. Every tax season since they’ve been married in fact. He feels guilty for thinking Michael meant anything other than his job at the junkyard. 

“I’ll just go with what we claimed on our taxes last year, it’ll be easiest,” he says with a small smile, hoping Michael sees it as the olive branch it is. 

He types in their shared annual income and information about how long they’ve owned their home before moving onto the next set of questions. It’s easy to answer the questions about their children, seeing as they have none. The next question about their personal history gives him pause. It’s not going to go over well. 

Michael moves closer again to read over his shoulder. It takes a moment, but when he finishes with the question, he scoffs and curses under his breath before standing up and walking out of the room without a backwards glance. 

_ Have you ever been arrested?  _

Alex stares after Michael and waits a minute for him to come back, hoping he will. It’s a bitch to get around and he doesn’t want to have to chase after Michael just because he’s in a mood. When he doesn’t return, Alex sighs. 

He saves the application and sets the computer aside. He scoots to the end of the bed and grabs his crutches. He takes care to make sure they are situated just so before standing up, cursing Michael’s name the entire time. He’s still unsteady on his one leg and doesn’t feel entirely comfortable moving around alone. Michael knows that. Not that he would have left him behind on purpose. He just gets so into his own head sometimes that he doesn’t stop and think. It’s frustrating. 

Alex moves out of their bedroom and steps out into the hallway. One of the older ladies staying down the hall while her husband undergoes hip replacement surgery waves at him and asks how he’s feeling. He smiles at her tensely and tells her he’s doing fine, hoping that ends the conversation there. 

Alex had moved into Fisher House with Michael when he’d been discharged from the hospital. They are planning on being here at least a month while Alex undergoes daily, intensive rehab and waits to be well enough that they’ll transfer him back to New Mexico. 

Much to his frustration, the woman informs him in great detail how her husband’s surgery had gone the day before. It’s not that Alex doesn’t care. He’d met her husband while he’d been hospitalized. He’s a Vietnam vet who has some pretty great stories to tell about the rescue missions he’d flown back in the day while he’d been a medic. It’s just that Alex isn’t in the mood to be on his crutches any longer than he has to be. He’d already had a tough PT session this morning and his body is still feeling the effects. 

After another few minutes, she eventually waves him on and by this point, Alex is beyond frustrated. Michael still hasn’t come back. His arms are sore. His hip is starting to ache something fierce. He clenches his teeth and moves down the hall as quickly as he dares, which is still too frustratingly slow for Alex’s taste. When he gets to the end of the hall, he runs into Sara. 

“He’s outside on the patio,” she says without him needing to ask. 

Thankfully, they’ve been given one of the rooms on the first floor to accommodate for his accessibility needs easier. He moves through the living space towards the back door spotting his curly-hair through the glass. He’s turned away from him, overlooking the lawn, but Alex can see the tension in his shoulders all the way from here. He pushes open the door and steps out onto the patio. 

“You really are an overdramatic asshole, you know that?” Alex says, moving out to the bench that Michael is sitting on. He juggles a bit getting situated before he sits down and sets the crutches aside. When he looks at Michael, he expects a smart ass retort. He doesn’t expect to see Michael wiping his eyes. 

Despite how annoyed he’d felt a moment ago, it’s gone. Alex’s heart clinches painfully at the look of fear and sadness in Michael’s eyes. He places his arm around his shoulder and scoots closer so that he can pull him into his side. Michael buries his face in Alex’s neck and starts to cry. 

“What if we can’t get approved?” he whispers, and the fear yanks every one of Alex’s insecurities to the surface, but he refuses to acknowledge them. They’ve always had an unspoken agreement that only one of them can fall apart at a time. It’s how they manage to keep functioning in the face of the shit hand they’ve both been dealt. Somebody always has to be able to keep their heads above water, otherwise they’d both drown. 

“You do know that the question asked if you’ve ever been arrested, not if you’ve ever been detained, right?” Alex asks. 

Michael sits up and looks at Alex, confused. “Now, unless you’re telling me that you have an arrest record that I don’t know about, then we’re honestly fine babe,” Alex says. 

“You don’t think we have to tell them?” he asks. 

Alex reaches out to wipe the tears from his eyes. When he’s done, he places a kiss to his forehead. “If they don’t ask, I don’t see why we should have to volunteer any information. And even if they did ask, it shouldn’t matter. The decisions you make as a kid shouldn’t have to follow you into adulthood. It’s not like you’re still getting picked up for being drunk and robbing pharmacies to deal with your hand.” 

“I was never caught for robbing the pharmacy,” Michael says. “Valenti brought me in for stealing Kyle’s hubcaps. Let me off with a warning if I promised to stop getting into trouble.” 

“Regardless, you were a kid who’d just gone through a huge trauma,” Alex says firmly. He hadn’t understood it then. He’d been going through his own issues with his father and being basically blackmailed into enlisting, but Michael’s issues had nothing to do with him. They’d been wrapped up in something much more serious. “Not to mention the fact that you were living out of your truck after the system failed yet again to find you a safe place to live. Your circumstances shouldn’t define who you are. Even back then, you were always a good man, Michael.” 

“People don’t see me like that,” he argues. “They see a lazy kid who could have had the world and blew off college to get drunk and start fights.” 

Alex hates that he is right. Hates that even after nearly a decade, there are people in Roswell that still see Michael that way. That even after Michael’s worked hard to heal so much of his trauma and allows more of the world to see the kind and giving man he’s always been to Alex, that some people can never see him as anything more. 

“Well I don’t see you like that,” Alex says pointedly. 

Michael gives him a small smile before shaking his head, body remaining tense, not ready to give in just yet. “Congrats,” he says. “Are you approving our application?” 

Alex doesn’t rise to the bait. Instead he waits for then tension in Michael’s body to leave and for him to relax into Alex’s arms. 

“I just don’t want to be the reason we don’t get a baby,” Michael says. 

Alex gets it. He has the same fear every time the topic of adoption comes up. 

“If we don’t get a baby, you won’t be the reason. I promise,” he says, resting his head against Michael’s as he pulls him in closer. 

“You can’t know that,” Michael argues. 

It’s moments like this — moments when Michael is feeling painfully insecure and Alex wants more than anything for him to understand just how amazing he is — that Alex wishes he had the power of the cosmos in his fingertips and could press a real handprint to Michael’s heart. That he could let him feel what Alex feels for him. That he could see just how amazing he is. 

“Shh, just trust me,” Alex says. After all, Alex has just as many hits against him as Michael does. He’s the disabled war vet with PTSD. When it feels like Michael is about to argue further, Alex shushes him again. Michael cuddles in closer to Alex and they both sit there, overlooking the lawn, lost in their own thoughts. 

Alex can’t help but think about something Mendoza had said to him – that it’s not easy for them like it is for straight couples. That they can’t just make a baby together just because they want to. And how unfair it is that people all over the world can have babies they don’t even want, and yet, two people who want a baby more than anything in the world, have to jump through so many hoops. 

It’s a broken system, Alex knows all too well. A system that allowed his father to have custody of 4 sons that he could never truly love. A system that continually put Michael in the care of abusive assholes who never should have passed a single screening from DCFS. A system that will make it incredibly difficult for them to become parents simply because they are two men in love. Because they are two men who come from immense trauma and their history shows the impact of that. 

“Fuck it’s cold out here,” Michael says after several minutes, breaking Alex out of his ever darkening thoughts. He sits up and takes a deep breath, pushing those thoughts into careful boxes, locking them away for the time being.

“Well you ran out here barefoot and in a t-shirt in the middle of winter, what did you expect?” Alex laughs at him, rubbing Michael’s arms to try and get some warmth into them. Alex for his part, hasn’t had a chance to get cold since he’s been cuddled up next to a space heater. “Why don’t we go inside and finish the application. We can let the agency decide for themselves if they’re willing to help us get a kid before we start assuming the worst, hm?” 

Michael stands up and reaches for Alex’s crutches. “Is that optimism I’m hearing?” he asks, mocking. 

“Don’t be a jackass,” Alex says, allowing Michael to help him stand up. 

“You love when I’m a jackass.” 

Alex rolls his eyes. “Not when I have to chase you outside on crutches because you decided to be dramatic.” 

“At least you got your steps in,” he says, though Alex can see in his eyes that he’s sorry even if he’s not saying it. Alex forgives him easily, he always has. “Now let's hurry up and get inside before I freeze my balls off.” 

“Wouldn’t want that,” Alex says as they slowly and steadily make their way inside. 

“I mean, you could always warm them up for me,” Michael says with a suggestive smile, even though he knows it won’t go anywhere. Michael won’t let it. 

It’s a myriad of issues, most of which aren’t in either of their control, which doesn’t make it any less frustrating. The doctor has strictly forbidden Alex from any strenuous activity including sex — which Alex knows because Michael has specifically made sure to ask if they were good to have sex again and the doctor had shot down every creative solution that Michael and Alex had come up with. Even if he had approved some form of sex, the meds Alex is taking for PTSD and his injuries have made it difficult for him to feel any semblance of desire physically. Still, it doesn’t make him immune to Michael’s sex appeal. Mentally? Spiritually? He’s still very much attracted to Michael and after eight months of celibacy he wants desperately. 

“You said I couldn't touch you since you can’t touch me,” he pouts. 

“The moment the doctor clears you babe, it’ll be the best shared orgasm of your life,” Michael promises. “Until then, if you can’t get off, I won’t get off.” 

****

Alex sits in the passenger seat of Michael’s truck, staring out the window, despondent. They are sitting in the driveway of the home that MHO had recommended to them. It’s a single family ranch in a nice neighborhood close to the hospital, but Alex hates it. He hasn’t even seen it, but he hates it because it’s not  _ their _ home. They’ve already got a home together in New Mexico, back where they should already be if it weren’t for Alex’s stupid leg and the fact that they are stuck here because he’s not healing as quickly as he should. 

The Mendoza’s are already back in New Mexico. Have been for a few days now. Diego is still in a wheelchair most of the time, but his PT had been going well and the powers that be felt like he was strong enough to return to duty, albeit a desk job. 

Alex hadn’t been so lucky. In fact, he’s scheduled for another surgery on his leg next week because he’s not healing like he should be. Thus, why they’ve been sentenced to at least another few months in San Antonio. Thus, why they are in need of more long-term housing. Their room at Fisher House had been nice enough, but they couldn’t stay forever and once it had been deemed that Alex would require more months of rehab, the house had informed them that they would need to seek alternative housing. 

“Come on, babe, let’s at least check it out before we write it off,” Michael says as he turns off the engine. 

“What does it matter? It’s not like we have other options,” he says bitterly. This was the only home that MHO had been able to find them that was available immediately and met all of Alex’s accessibility needs. Because that’s Alex’s reality now. He comes with a list of accommodations. He’s a roadblock. An issue. 

Michael doesn’t bite back. Alex has been baiting him all morning, itching for a fight, a target for his pent up resentment and anger at the world. All he’s gotten from Michael is understanding and perhaps some urging to talk to his therapist about changing his meds. It’s annoying. Alex doesn’t want to fight with Michael, but he also doesn’t know what to do with the patience that Michael keeps showing him. They haven’t fought since his injury. Not truly. Michael’s been treating him like he’s fragile. Like he could break at any second. 

Maybe he’s right. Maybe he is fragile. It certainly seems that way when his leg refuses to heal. 

Michael gets out of the car and grabs Alex’s crutches from the back before walking to Alex’s side to open his door for him. 

“You could go back to New Mexico,” Alex tells him, not making a move to get out. “I know you miss Max and Isobel. You could go home and I could stay on base. Just because I’ve been sentenced to hell doesn’t mean you have to be.” 

Michael sighs deeply, running his hands over his face. “I’m not going home without you,” he says firmly. 

Alex continues to stare out the windshield at the house that is nothing like the one they share back home. It lacks any of the same warmth. He refuses to meet Michael’s eyes as he continues to push, “Why not?” 

“In sickness and in health,” Michael reminds him, his temper starting to show in the way Michael’s body grows tense. “Stop being an asshole and let's go inside.” 

He knows that Michael is right. He’s being an asshole. He just can’t help it. He’s felt so helpless ever since the doctor had told them the news that he needs another surgery. It feels like the finish line keeps getting moved further and further away and their dreams of starting a family are slipping through their fingers. He can’t get his dark thoughts to fit in a neat box anymore, they are always with him. He hates it. Michael deserves better from him. 

“You’d be happier back home,” Alex tells him. 

“Fuck you,” Michael snaps. “Is that why you’ve been pushing me all week? Trying to make me go away? Fuck you Alex, I’m not going anywhere. You’re my husband and I could never be happy anywhere that isn’t with you. So just… fuck you.” 

Michael sets his crutches against the door and storms off down the driveway to stand at the curb. Alex is sure they make quite the sight for the property manager who’s been standing on the front porch watching them this whole time. He takes several deep breaths before grabbing his crutches and sliding carefully out of the truck. He makes his way down the driveway until he’s standing next to Michael. He pretends not to notice that Michael has started crying. Michael won’t appreciate it and it will just make things worse. 

“I don’t like that we’re still in Texas either, you know,” Michael says. “But your doctor says it’s what’s best and I want you to get better, so I’m trying to make the most of it.”

“What if I don’t get better?” he asks quietly, voicing the very real fear he’s been harboring for the last few days. 

Michael turns so that he’s facing him as he says, “Not possible.” 

He’s so sure about it. Alex wishes he could have that same certainty. “Even if I have to get Max to heal you himself,” Michael leans in to say much quieter. 

Alex’s eyes shoot up to meet Michael’s. Shocked by the statement. 

“You wouldn’t risk that,” he says, carefully, even though he’s not so sure about that. Michael can be reckless at times when it comes to saving his loved ones. It’s how he’d ended up taking the blame for murdering Rosa Ortecho instead of Isobel. But Max can’t heal Alex. Not while he’s still getting daily PT and checkups from the doctor. It would raise too many questions and risk exposure. 

“For you? You know I would,” Michael says firmly. 

Alex reaches out to grab Michael’s left wrist, and holds his scarred and damaged hand up between them. “If Max isn’t allowed to heal this, he’s not allowed to heal me.” 

“That’s different,” Michael argues. 

“Why?” Alex scoffs. “Because it’s you? Because your pain doesn’t matter as much as mine does?” 

“Yes,” he says so firmly, so unabashedly honest that it stops Alex in his tracks. 

“Michael, no” he says softly, shaking his head. He wants to reach out and hold him, but he’s ever aware of his lack of stability and their audience. “No, okay? Your pain is every bit as valid as mine. I’ll heal the right way. The human way.” 

Michael nods. “I just hate seeing you like this and not being able to do anything.” 

“You are doing everything,” Alex assures him, leaning forward until their foreheads touch. “You’re here.”

Michael smiles at him, though Alex notices that it doesn’t quite meet his eyes. 

“I’m sorry for being an asshole,” Alex tells him sincerely. “I don’t mean to take it out on you.” 

“I know,” he says. Then nods towards the house. “Should we check this thing out?” 

They make their way up the short walkway towards the front door where the property manager has been waiting for them. Alex notices, with some relief, that there are no stairs up to the front door. Perhaps MHO really had known what it was doing when they said they’d found an accessible home for them. 

“Welcome,” the manager says to them with a wide smile, her eyes falling to Alex’s leg just like everyone’s always do and Alex can see that smile waiver. Can see the moment her eyes fill with pity and he wants to scream. “Captain Manes, I want to thank you for your service.” 

Alex opens his mouth to say something snarky, but before he can, Michael beats him to it. “Actually, I’m usually the one that does the servicing.” 

Michael winks at the lady whose eyes go a bit wide and Alex is torn between wanting to laugh and wanting to hide under a rock. 

“Why don’t we get inside,” Michael says, pointing at the door. “My husband and I are a little anxious to see the house.” 

“Of course,” the manager says, shifting awkwardly on her feet before her smile returns and she turns to unlock the door. 

Alex sends Michael a grateful smile for redirecting the conversation. Alex hasn’t gotten used to the way that people treat him after his injury and every time they offer their thanks, it pisses him off. Like he’d willingly gone off to fight in a war he didn’t believe in. Alex doesn’t get a say in where he’s deployed. He certainly wouldn’t have picked Afghanistan. 

The manager opens the front door for them and steps aside so they can enter. “As you can see, it’s an open concept floor plan which should make moving around easier and give you plenty of space for entertaining.” 

Alex snorts at that, as if they will be entertaining. Everyone they know and love is back home in New Mexico while they are stuck here in exile. 

Michael moves into the kitchen and opens several of the cabinets, looking impressed when the doors open a full 180 degrees. He opens the oven door and stands in front of it looking at the distance between the oven and the island, nodding to himself. 

“Well the kitchen looks good for you, babe,” Michael says, giving him an encouraging smile. 

“Ok.” Alex shrugs. He doesn’t have any opinions about the house. He moves towards the back door to open it and step outside. He hears Michael ask the manager for a few minutes then follows after him. 

“It’s not a bad place,” Michael says as Alex looks out at the fenced-in backyard. 

Alex doesn’t argue because he’s right. It’s not a bad place. The doorknobs were all levers and it’s clear the home was thoughtfully designed to make mobility easier. Still, it’s not their house and that weighs on him. His bad mood from earlier returns with a vengeance. 

“I know this isn’t ideal…” 

“I just thought we’d be home by now,” Alex says. 

“I know,” he says. “But this isn’t so bad, is it? We’re together at least.” 

And doesn’t Michael’s earnestness just make him feel even worse for not being able to see past all the negatives? “But we’re not in New Mexico.” 

“You hate New Mexico,” Michael argues. “Since when do you care about being there? The only reason we bought a home there was for me. You said you’d have gladly moved to Antarctica so long as I was there and your father wasn’t. So what’s this really about?” 

Alex feels his eyes filling with frustrated tears as he overlooks the backyard. A yard that is clearly meant for a swing-set and children. 

Michael reaches out and places a gentle hand against his back. It’s hot against him, but doesn’t burn like a handprint would. It’s simply a reminder. “Talk to me.” 

“We can’t do a home study if we aren’t home.” 

Michael sighs deeply. He pulls out one of the patio chairs for Alex to sit down in then pulls out one for himself. 

“We don’t know that for sure,” he says softly, but the tone of his voice tells Alex that he too had been thinking about it. “We haven’t talked to anyone about what this means.” 

“And what if they say we still can? Then what? We get approved and put on a list?” Alex asks, feeling his heart begin to race at the idea as tears start to spill over. “Moms want to meet us while I still can’t even walk on my leg outside of PT?” 

“Yes? Why would that matter?” he asks, confused. 

Alex shakes his head, frustrated that Michael doesn’t get it. “It matters to me.” 

Michael continues to look confused and it just makes matters worse because Alex knows he’s not communicating his fears clearly and it only makes him more frustrated with it all. 

“What is this really about?” he asks. 

“I need to feel like I can provide for my family. That I can protect them. I can’t do that when I’m like this,” he says, gesturing to his leg.

Michael holds up his hands like he’s about to tell Alex to calm down, and Alex glares at him. 

“You’re still getting your checks from the Air Force so you  _ are _ providing for your family,” Michael says. “And I don’t need you to protect me, nor will our kid. Alex, babe, all that matters is that you love them.” 

“I don’t feel like I can be a good dad like this,” he argues. “I can barely care for myself let alone another living thing.” 

Michael moves to kneel between Alex’s thighs, reaching up to take hold of Alex’s hands. “You are going to be an amazing father. You don’t need to be able to walk on two legs to be a good dad. Mendoza is in a wheelchair 90% of the time and he’s still a great dad.” 

“I just…” he trails off, not knowing how to explain to Michael that he still has his father’s voice in his head calling him a cripple and useless. 

He hadn’t let those words sink in before. He’d been too caught up in his rehab and had the constant distraction of Michael and the Mendoza’s to keep his mind from drifting towards the dark. But ever since they’d gotten the news that he wasn’t getting better, Alex couldn’t help feeling like this was his fault. That he hadn’t worked hard enough on his rehab. That he was letting Michael down somehow. And once he let that thought in, it was easy to let every bad thought back in. 

“What?” he asks, sensing that there’s more Alex isn’t telling him. 

“When I was in Germany, my dad came to visit,” he says. 

Michael drops his hands and stands up, his entire body language instantly changing. “What?” 

“He wanted to tell me in person what an idiot I was for losing my leg,” he says, not meeting Michael’s eyes, knowing how angry the news will make him. There is a reason Alex hadn’t told him about his dad’s visit before. 

“Why was that asshole even allowed in your room? What was he doing in Germany? He was supposed to be stationed in New Mexico. They said they wouldn’t let family fly out to see you!” Michael says, his voice starting to raise as he begins pacing in front of Alex. 

“I’m sure he arranged a flight out just to berate me.” 

“Did he hurt you?” Michael asks, his right hand curled in a fist while his left shakes with the effort of trying to make a fist when the bones won’t allow it. 

Alex shakes his head. “Mendoza came in before he could.” 

“Fuck, Alex!” Michael says, his eyes wild and looking ready to murder. “Fuck.” 

“He’s not worth it,” Alex tells him, reaching out to grab his hand, but he’s not close enough. 

“Not worth it? Clearly he upset you,” he argues. 

“Michael, please,” Alex says, keeping his hands out for Michael. 

Michael puts his hands on his hips and stares up at the sky for a minute, taking several calming breaths. When he finally looks back down at Alex, he steps closer and takes his hands. “What did he say to you?” 

“He called me a cripple and said I was useless,” Alex tells him. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Michael asks, looking around as if Jesse is going to somehow pop up out of nowhere and Michael can give him a piece of his mind. When Michael looks back at him, he pauses, eyes going soft, confused... “Wait, you don’t believe him do you.” 

Alex can only shrug. 

“Alex,” Michael says, pleadingly. When Alex doesn’t respond, Michael kneels again, placing his hands on both of Alex’s thighs. “Alex please. Your dad is a bigot. He doesn’t get to be the authority here.” 

Michael rubs soothing circles into his thighs, easing his aching muscles. 

“I know,” he says, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand, embarrassed that he’d allowed himself to start crying over this. 

“Do you?” Michael asks. 

Alex lays his head against the back of the chair and looks up at the sky, trying to get himself to calm down so that he can try and clear his head from this fog of self doubt and hear the truth that Michael is trying to tell him. 

“You have a disability now, we both do,” Michael says softly, continuing to massage his thighs. “That doesn’t mean you are useless or any other hateful thing he might have said to you.” 

Alex continues to take slow and steady breaths until his mind clears ever so slightly and he feels like he can see the hint of the sun peaking through and looks down at Michael. His sun. “I don’t know why I let him get into my head.” 

“It’s easier to believe the bad stuff, even when it’s a lie,” Michael says, and Alex nods, knowing that Michael understands. More often than not, it’s Alex talking Michael off a ledge. “But I need you to know that you’re the strongest man I’ve ever known, and that remains true even with all of this.” 

Michael leans forward to press a kiss to Alex’s right knee, just above his bandage. 

“I want a kid for us so badly,” Alex admits with a shaky breath. “But I’m terrified I’m not going to be able to care for it. I can’t even care for myself.” 

“You are caring for yourself. You needing surgery isn’t because you’ve done something wrong. You’ve done everything that the doctors and therapists have asked you to do. Just like you’re going to do everything for our child because that’s just who you are,” he says. 

When Alex doesn’t respond and instead looks out at the backyard, Michael follows his gaze. He then looks back at Alex suddenly, as if he’s just realized something. “What if I can prove you wrong?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“What if we get a puppy?” Michael says and Alex’s eyes grow wide in surprise. “I mean, the yard here is big enough for it and it might do us both some good to focus on something else for a change. Give us some good practice with parenting.” 

“You said you didn’t want a dog until after we had a kid,” he reminds him. 

“Well, I’ve changed my mind,” Michael says, and Alex gets a sinking feeling in his gut knowing that Michael’s only changed his mind because they won’t be getting a child anytime soon. “Weren’t you just telling me that Gibson’s dogs had a litter?” 

“You’re serious?” 

Michael shrugs. “Why not?” 

Alex thinks about it. Thinks about all the ways that he could look at this as a negative thing. The ways he could let this dark cloud stay and allow it to ruin everything. But then he thinks about an adorable puppy in the house. Pictures the two of them caring for a new family member. Allows himself to think of all the times he’d wanted a dog as a kid to be a companion in his home when he’d felt nothing but alone. And the dream he has of a big ranch with 3 kids and a dog. And if they can’t have the dog right now, doesn’t it make sense to get a dog? To work on part of that dream? 

“I can text him and see if they have any puppies left?” 

“Good,” Michael says with a smile, moving forward to give Alex a sweet kiss before standing up. “Can we go check out the rest of the house? I want to make sure the bathrooms are accessible.” 

“Can you?” he asks. 

Michael gives him a look. 

“I’m not trying to be difficult,” Alex says. “I’m just tired and my hips hurt. I don’t feel like moving. If you say it works for us, then we’ll get it. I trust you.” 

Michael debates it for a few seconds before nodding. “Okay. I’ll be back in a bit.” 

“I’ll text Gibson,” he says. 

Gibson is a guy he’d gone to tech school with who is permanently stationed in San Antonio. His wife is a breeder and also helps train therapy dogs for vets. He pulls out his phone as Michael goes back in the house and sends him a text asking if they’ve got any puppies left from their litter. A minute later Gibson sends him back a text with a picture of an adorable german shepard puppy with the message,  _ Last one left!  _

It feels like fate, which sounds weird to say since he doesn’t typically believe in stuff like that, but it’s how it feels. Ten minutes later, Michael steps back onto the patio and Alex shows him the picture. 

“She’s perfect.” 

“Well then, she’s ours,” he says with a smile, pulling Michael down until he’s sitting on the armrest of the chair and Alex can lean his head against his arm. 

“And so is this house,” Michael says. “Max and Isobel agreed to bring up some of our furniture this weekend for us.” 

“This feels like a step forward, not backward, right?” he asks. 

Michael smiles at him. He reaches out to take his hand, pulling it up to kiss the back of it before resting his cheek against it. 

“It’s never a step backwards, so long as we’re doing it together.” 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And finally, after 4 chapters, we start actually getting into the heart of their adoption journey. I hope you all enjoy it... especially as this story continues to get longer and longer than I planned as I realize so many of these scenes deserve to be much more involved than I originally plotted out. 
> 
> L- you can rest easy, in this chapter we actually finally have a line you prompted AND a scene you prompted.

Alex stands in their bedroom, a duffle bag open on the bed as he packs up everything he’ll need for a weekend trip back to New Mexico. Cosmina lays next to the duffle bag, attempting to eat the straps every time Alex turns his back on her, whining every time that he pulls the straps out of her mouth and replaces it with her rope toy. She’s just turned 5 months old and is still teething something fierce. 

“We’re going on a trip Mina,” he says to her, even though he knows she won’t understand. “You’re gonna see your real home and get to meet all your aunts and uncles.” 

He leans heavily on his crutch as he moves into the bathroom to grab his shower supplies. His leg has been killing him today as he adjusts to the new temporary prosthesis they’ve given him after he’d had so many problems with the other one. 

“Max and Isobel are very excited to meet you and the Mendozas are going to love you,” Alex says, as he tosses his shampoo and shower gel into the bag. 

Mina looks up at him and tilts her head, curious and he reaches out to pet her. 

“It’s going to be a good trip,” he says, not sure if he’s trying to convince her or himself of that. 

Truth be told, he’s feeling more than a little bit anxious over the entire thing. 

Suddenly, Mina stands up and jumps off the bed, running over to where Michael is leaning against the doorframe. Alex moves into the bathroom to grab his toothbrush and toothpaste before coming back out. 

“Did you already do your PT?” Michael asks. 

Alex sighs, tossing his toothbrush onto the bed before crossing his arms and turning to face Michael. “Yes,” he says, hoping the short concise answer won’t invite any further questioning. 

“You did it all?” Michael asks doubtful and Alex’s body tenses. “Because it’s a long drive and—” 

“Michael,” Alex cuts him off with a sharp look. “I love you. You have to stop micromanaging me.”

“I’m not trying to micromanage you,” he says carefully, moving into the room with slow steps, hands up to show he means no harm. When Mina follows after him, Michael leans over to pick her up. 

She’s really getting to be too big to be held, but Michael still manages. Alex feels a pang of jealousy at the ease with which Michael can handle her in ways that he’s limited due to his reliance on the crutch. He just wants to be steady and confident on his leg. Everyone keeps telling him that it takes time, but he’s growing impatient with the whole process. 

“I just know that you sometimes rush through your exercises and don’t want to have issues on our way home,” Michael says. 

“I can take care of myself,” he argues and Michael throws his free hand up as if to say ‘whatever.’ 

“Have you finished packing?” Alex asks, changing the subject before Michael can start in again. 

“I’ve loaded the crate into the truck and got all of Mina’s stuff in a bag. I’ve still got to get my stuff together,” he says. 

Alex tries very hard not to react, but inside, he begins to fume. “We’re supposed to leave in 10 minutes.” 

“And I’ll be ready,” he snaps. “Please take a deep breath or something. Your stress is stressing me out.” 

Alex wants to tell him that he  _ should _ be stressed. That this isn’t just a regular weekend home for them. They’ve got to impress the agency so that they can be put on the list, otherwise they won’t get approved. Instead, he bites his tongue. 

“Why don’t you let Mina outside one last time before we go,” he suggests. “I promise I won’t take long and we can hit the road.” 

He sets Mina back down on the ground, but not before letting her lick his face. 

“Okay,” Alex says, even though he knows exactly what Michael is doing. “Just make sure you pack something nice to wear.”

“I will,” Michael says, waving him off as he steps into the closet. 

“And not just a flannel,” he calls after him. “Something actually nice.” 

Michael peeks his head out of the closet looking like he’s about to snap at Alex, but takes a deep breath instead. “I already have a sweater picked out.” 

“Your white one?” he asks, mentally picturing it on Michael. It’s been awhile since he wore it, but it’s nice enough. 

“Is there a problem?” Michael asks, his body tense like he’s preparing for a fight. 

“No, that should be good,” he says and Michael’s shoulders relax again. 

“Alex,” he says with a soft smile. “I promise that it will be okay. If they don’t like me because of my sweater, then they won’t like me in a suit and tie either.” 

Alex knows that’s likely true, but he can’t help but hear his father’s voice in his head going on about perfect creases and the importance of first impressions. It’s crazy. They are trying to get a baby. They are trying to convince the agency that they will be good parents. The last voice Alex should be listening to is Jesse Manes — the worst father in the world. And yet, his voice is the loudest.

“You’re right,” he says even if he still can’t entirely quiet the anxiety he feels. 

“We need to be ourselves,” Michael tells him. 

Themselves. Sure. That’s easy for Michael to say. Everyone loves him. He’s endlessly charming and the moment he smiles at the social worker from the agency, they’ll be eating out of the palm of his hand. Alex isn’t like that. He’s not easy to like. He’s distant and stand-offish until people get to know him. He doesn’t make good first impressions. If he’s himself, he’s going to scare the social worker away. 

“Breathe,” Michael says, moving over to place two hands on his shoulders. 

“I’m fine,” he says, trying to put a smile on his face so Michael won’t worry. Michael has enough nerves of his own about this home study without Alex piling more on his plate. Michael’s been his rock through his entire recovery and Alex knows he deserves better than to always have to be the calm in the storm. He’s sure Michael wouldn’t see it that way, but Michael is also the guy who would continue to willingly pour from an empty pitcher. 

“I know you’re fine,” Michael says. “But why don’t you breathe anyways?” 

Michael wraps his arms around his waist as Mina shimmies her way between their legs, never one to miss out on moments of affection. 

“They are going to love you,” Michael says as he rests his forehead against Alex’s. “How could they not?”

Alex has about a million reasons why they won’t love him, but if he sits here and lists them all, Michael will get upset. Michael always gets offended when Alex talks down about himself, like Alex is somehow insulting him. Instead, he decides to voice his most immediate fear. 

“I’m worried that I’ll say the wrong thing.” 

Michael doesn’t answer right away, which causes Alex to start to worry that Michael too believes that Alex is going to say the wrong thing. After all, doesn’t he always? 

“I’m worried I’m going to say the wrong thing too,” Michael says. “That I’ll get defensive and run my mouth and they’ll decide I’m not good enough. But… I think we both need to remember what Booker told us last week.” 

Booker is one of the girls from Alex’s old unit. She got married two years ago and her and her wife just recently adopted a son. Alex had called her up when their home study had been scheduled, looking for advice. She’d told him that it’s less important that you find the perfect words and more important that you are honest and able to show that you’ll be able to provide a safe home full of love. 

“Anyone walking into our home is going to see how much we love each other and how much we will love a kid,” Michael says. 

Alex hopes that’s true, if nothing else. 

“We should have left earlier,” he says. “We haven’t been home in months. We need to clean and double check all the locks and smoke detectors—” 

“Sara and Isobel have already done all of that,”’ Michael says. “We talked to them last night. Then I triple checked our grocery order was going to be delivered tonight so we’d have something to offer the social worker when they come. We’re good.” 

“Okay, but—” 

Michael holds up a hand to cut him off. “Okay but we’ve already gone through the checklists about 18 times and each had our mental breakdowns about the visit. Trust that we’ve got everything ready and just breathe. Because if you keep stressing out about this, I’m going to have my own spiral.” 

Mina starts to lick at his hand, offering up support as well. 

“Let’s be real,” Michael says. “You probably don’t even have to say a word. Once the social worker sees you with Mina, she’s gonna know that you’re already the best daddy in the world.” 

Alex looks down at their baby girl and smiles, running his hands over her head as she continues to try and lick his hand. Having Mina to take care of these past 3 months has been good for him. In many ways, it’s been helpful to focus his attention on her needs rather than his own. It’s kept his thoughts from being able to spiral too deep into darkness. 

But more importantly, it’s helped show him that he’s got what it takes to be a father. That he can care for another living creature without losing his temper. That he can handle the sleepless nights as he’s being woken up every hour for potty breaks. That he won’t snap when the puppy won’t stop barking and he’s tired and in pain. That he’s capable of giving unconditional love to something in a way that he was never shown growing up. 

“You good?” Michael asks a moment or so later. 

Alex nods. “Yeah, you can get packed. I’ll take her out.” 

“I’ll just be a few minutes. I can meet you guys in the front.” 

“Come on Baby,” Alex says as he heads out of the room and she dutifully follows after him. He makes his way to the back door and gets it open for Mina to run outside. He then steps out onto the patio and tilts his head back so that he can soak in the sun, breathing in the fresh air.

After she goes to the bathroom, Alex lets Mina run around long enough to get some of her energy out before the long car ride. But when his phone goes off, alerting him that it’s time to leave, he calls her over. Thankfully, she comes when he calls her and sits down at his feet. She’s been getting better about that recently. They used to really struggle between his limited mobility and her inability to sit still… but as his mobility has been improving and Mina’s training has progressed, they’ve found a rhythm. He sits down on the patio chair so that his hands are free to get her leash on her. He then stands back up and walks them around to the gate. 

Michael is just finishing up tying their things down in the back of the truck when they reach the driveway. 

“Who’s ready for a road trip?” Michael asks, kneeling down to pet Mina who practically jumps into Michael’s arms. It’s the one bad habit they are struggling to break. She loves to jump and with him still unsteady on his feet, it’s a problem. It will only get worse when there’s a kid in the house. 

Alex hands the leash over to Michael and moves to get into the car, stowing his crutch on the floor once he’s comfortable. Then Michael places Mina in his lap before closing the door. 

“Are you ready to go get ourselves a baby?” Michael asks once he climbs into the driver’s seat. 

“We aren’t getting a baby today,” Alex says with a smile and a roll of his eyes. “They’re only looking at our house.” 

“Exactly, they are only looking at our house,” Michael says with a pointed look. “Guess we can both relax. No big deal.” 

****

After the social worker leaves, Alex spends some time in their backyard with Mina playing ball and decompressing. The visit had gone well. As well as he could have expected it to. They won’t know anything for sure until the agency contacts them, and even if they get a passing report, they won’t know if they’ve been approved to adopt for awhile. But he feels good. All of the worry from yesterday feels silly now in retrospect. 

The social worker had put him at ease early on. When he’d answered the door, she’d barely reacted to his leg. She hadn’t thanked him for his service or stared at his crutch like some people do. She hadn’t looked at him with pity or looked down her nose at him as they showed her around the house. The most she’d done was ask if they’d thought through accessibility issues with a baby in the home. She’d had a kind smile and a non-judgmental tone and Alex had felt comfortable enough around her to actually be himself. It was great. 

“What do you think, Mina?” Alex asks as she returns with the tennis ball he’d just thrown and drops it at his feet. “Do you think you’ll be getting a new brother or sister soon?” 

Mina doesn’t respond, just stares at the tennis ball in his hand and whines until Alex throws the ball again. He leans back in his seat and tilts his head up towards the sun, letting it warm his skin. It feels good to be in their own backyard again. The backyard that they’d created together, not some rental place with landscaping that isn’t their own and furniture they’d have never picked out for themselves. Rather, in the backyard they’d both spent hours working on that first summer after they’d been married when he’d been stationed locally and they’d had nothing but time together. 

Alex remembers that summer fondly. They’d spent their mornings in bed having the kind of lazy sex they’d never had the time or freedom for before. Eventually one of them would grow hungry enough that they’d leave the bed for food. After, Alex would always find Michael outside, working on their sad backyard, wanting to build the garden of his dreams with a nice patio where they could sit and enjoy the view. Alex had learned a lot that summer about installing stone pavers and building a ramada. It had taken them a few months to get everything just right, but by the time he was being deployed overseas, they’d built the perfect outdoor space to enjoy the garden by day and stargaze by night. 

He tosses the ball for Mina again, smiling as he pictures a little boy or girl with him for this moment. Imagines a child chasing after Mina as they dart around the raised flower beds. It brings a smile to his face, thinking about how ready he feels to fill their home with a child. Children, eventually. 

Eventually, Mina starts slowing down and Alex can tell she’s getting tired. He lets her back into the house and she darts straight for her water bowl. It’s oddly quiet, he notices. Typically, their house is filled with noise. The happy sounds of Michael’s constant tinkering. He’s always moving around, unable to sit still, hands jumping from one task to another as his genius mind moves through a million ideas an hour. 

Silence, traditionally? It’s never been a good sign. 

“Where’s Daddy?” Alex asks Mina. She takes off sniffing around the house looking for Michael and Alex follows after her. They check the kitchen, the office, the soon to be nursery, and finally the bedroom, but don’t find him in any of those places. 

It’s odd. Michael doesn’t ever go anywhere without telling him. 

“Michael?” Alex calls out, hoping he’ll answer but he gets no reply. Mina runs back out towards the front of the house and begins jumping at the front door, barking. Alex follows after, surprised when he peeks out the window and sees Michael sitting on their front porch. His shoulders are slumped and his head is down. 

He opens the door and instantly Michael pops up to his feet. 

“I’ll be in in a minute,” he says, not turning around as he walks down their walkway towards the driveway. “Just gotta grab something out of the truck.” 

It’s a lie. Alex knows his husband well enough to hear it in his voice even if he couldn’t see it in the way he’s holding his body tightly. It worries him. 

“Michael?” he asks, following him out, closing the door before Mina can take off. 

“I’m fine,” Michael says, though he sounds anything but as he continues to move away from him. 

“Michael,” he repeats himself, this time his tone is softer, pleading, hoping that he’ll let him help, whatever it is. 

Michael finally stops moving and when Alex walks around to stand in front of him, he instantly notices that his eyes are watery and red. He’s shaking his head repeatedly like he doesn’t want to talk about it though his eyes are calling out for help. 

Confused, but smart enough not to push right away, he holds his arms open and lets Michael fall into them. Alex rubs his back as Michael clings to him, his breath shaky, never quite crying, but clearly near that point. He can feel a tension in his muscles that wasn’t there this morning. 

“It’s alright,” he says into his ear softly as his own eyes water even though he has no idea what’s going on. Seeing him in pain pulls at his heart and he’s ready to murder whoever caused Michael to feel like this. 

“I’m right here,” he whispers as Michael’s hands cling to the back of his shirt tightly, as if he would ever go anywhere while Michael’s in this much pain. 

Eventually, Michael’s muscles start to relax, though the clear stress in his body doesn’t disappear. Alex moves them over to sit back down on the porch so that he can focus on Michael instead of worrying about his leg. 

“I didn’t realize,” Michael says, eyes trained head, refusing to look at him. 

“Didn’t realize what?” he asks, resting one hand on Michael’s knee and the other on his back as a healthy reminder of his presence. Sometimes Michael gets lost in his mind and has a hard time staying grounded. 

“The social worker.” 

It’s all he says, and not a lot to go on, but it’s at least something. 

“What about her?” he asks. 

Did Michael know her? Neither of them had acted like they knew each other. Had she said something to him when he was walking her out to her car? Alex can’t recall anything she’d said or done that could have set Michael off. 

“Did she say something to you?” he asks, feeling his body start to tense and prepare for a fight. He wants a baby more than anything, and knows the key to that is impressing the social worker, but if she’s said something to Michael, he has no problem letting her have it. 

Michael shakes his head. “Not her.” 

Alex is confused. There’d only been the one social worker who had come. “Okay? Then who?” 

Michael shrugs. 

“Talk to me,” he says, earning him a side eye and the barest hint of a smirk. 

And yes, he can hear how hypocritical that sounds when Michael’s always the one telling him to stop keeping things inside. He doesn’t care. He can’t do anything to help if he doesn’t know what the problem is. 

When Michael doesn’t say anything, he asks, “if not her, then who?” 

“All of them,” Michael says. 

Alex is confused. Clearly he’s missing something. “All of the people at the adoption agency?” 

He shakes his head. 

Alex doesn’t understand who he’s referring to. Michael lets out an annoyed huff. Alex is about to ask another question when Michael stands up and starts pacing. 

“It’s just all so fucked up,” he says, running his hands through his hair and pulling at it. “One person comes and looks at your house and decides if you are fit to be a parent. They check your smoke detectors and make sure your railings are secure and your windows all have locks on them and bam! That’s it! One person gets to decide who a kid is safe with based on the state of their home in  _ one _ visit.” 

“I mean, I think it’s more than that—” he starts to say but stops when Michael looks at him, daring him to say more, suddenly it all clicks. 

They aren’t talking about the adoption process at all. The Michael standing before him isn’t his husband of seven years. It’s the boy who stole his guitar in high school. The boy who sat in the back of the room in every one of his classes and never talked despite knowing every answer. It’s the scared boy with no home that never expected anyone to care about him because nobody ever had. 

Alex lets out a heavy breath as the weight of Michael’s abuse makes its way back to the surface. They don’t talk about Michael’s childhood often. At least, not about the foster homes he’d grown up in. Michael prefers to focus on the family he does have and Alex admittedly, avoids the topic because it nearly always leads to his own bad memories. But they  _ have _ talked about his past. Alex knows exactly the kind of people that Michael was given to over the years and it always hurts his heart to think about the ways that the system had failed him time and time again. 

“Seeing the social worker today reminded you of being in the system.” It’s not a question. Alex can see the truth written all over his face. 

Michael deflates completely. His anger melts away and all that’s left is an immeasurable sadness that makes Alex want to cry. He hates seeing Michael in pain. More than anything else in the world, he hates seeing Michael upset. 

Michael sits back down on the porch and doesn’t protest when Alex pulls him into his arms. He runs his fingers through Michael’s hair as he curls up in his lap and stars listless ahead. Not for the first time, Alex seriously contemplates using his cyber security skills to hack into the financial records of every foster parent Michael ever had and tank their credit. Perhaps add their names to government watch lists, make their lives as difficult as they’d made Michael’s. 

“Do you know how many home visits I had growing up?” he asks. “My foster parents would always get a head’s up. Enough time to clean up the place and make sure it was  _ safe _ .” Michael snorts at the word. “They’d visit and compliment the home and ask me if I was being treated well right in front of my foster parents. And what was I supposed to say? It’s bullshit.” 

Alex can’t argue with that. It is bullshit. He too had social workers show up to his house to interview him and inspect the safety of his home. At least once a year, often more, the school would contact DCFS on his behalf and some social worker would show up and buy every one of his father’s lies. Alex had never been brave enough to tell them the truth. Never trusted any adults to do anything about the abuse happening in his home. Not after he’d trusted Mrs. McKinney in second grade and his dad had her fired.

He hates, absolutely  _ hates _ that Michael is so upset about this. After so many years together a lot of their childhood trauma has been painted over with love and affection and the security of having a stable home in each other. But it’s all still there under the surface, forever waiting for the right trigger to pull it all back up to the surface again. Clearly this visit had been that for Michael. 

“It is bullshit,” he agrees, if only because he has nothing else to really say. 

“Here we are, two people with a good home and plenty of love to give and they can’t find us a baby without making us jump through a million stupid hoops,” Michael complains. “Where were all of these hoops when I was a kid? Why didn’t anyone care about placing me in a home that was safe or loving? Why is it so hard for us and so easy for shitty people…” 

Michael trails off and shifts uncomfortably under his touch, clearly feeling like that he’s said too much. It’s certainly more than Alex has ever heard him say on the topic before. 

He doesn’t know what to say. Rather than say anything, knowing from experience that nothing will be the right thing, he instead just continues to run his fingers through Michael’s hair, reminding him that he’s here. That he’ll always be here. Tries to convey through touch all the love he has for Michael. Help him feel the love that he could never feel in any of those homes he was placed in. 

“I didn’t know I would react like this,” Michael says, his tone an apology. 

“It’s okay,” he reassures him. He rarely sees his own triggers coming either. It’s hard to know what they will be and sometimes, often, they just happen. 

“If we don’t get approved, I’m going to be really pissed,” Michael says. 

“Yeah, me too,” he agrees. “You were meant to be a father.” 

“So were you,” Michael says. 

Alex snorts. “I’m not so sure about that. But I’m figuring it out. The thought doesn't scare me anymore.” 

Michael sits up and looks him in the eyes. “You know how to love, Alex. Even when we couldn’t figure out how to talk, you still loved me. You were meant to be a father.” 

“I only know how to do that from you,” Alex argues, a blush covering his cheeks at the praise. “You love with your whole heart, you always have. And it’s so pure and beautiful… I know that our kid is out there waiting for us. And they are going to be so lucky to have you as their father when we get them.” 

“They are going to be lucky to have  _ us _ ,” he says pointedly. And Alex nods. Together, they are going to make great parents. That much Alex can see now. 

They sit there for a few more minutes until Mina’s barking from inside grows too much to bear. “I think someone is worried about her daddy,” Alex says. 

Without moving a muscle, Michael opens the door with his brain. Mina comes running out and jumps into Michael’s lap, licking his face enthusiastically. Michael laughs one of his big belly laughs and the sound is music to Alex’s ears. 

They’re gonna be alright. 

***

Alex and Michael sit in a booth at the Crashdown with a shared plate of churro pancakes between them. All around them, families are seated, enjoying pancakes of their own. Sticky fingered kids are getting their faces painted with American flags while their parents write out checks to the local VA. The town had wanted to throw a parade to celebrate Alex’s return, but Michael had gotten Isobel to convince them to throw a fundraiser instead. Which is how Michael and Alex find themselves at a pancake breakfast on their first Saturday back in town. 

In a perfect world, they wouldn’t be here at all. There wouldn’t be any celebration in his name. But that hadn’t been in the cards. Isobel had made it clear that the town expected something. At least with a fundraiser, half of the attention was on the VA itself instead of just him. 

It could be worse. The food is phenomenal, just as good as Alex remembers it. Alex had missed their dates at the Crashdown. Texas had plenty of meals with Michael, but none of them quite held a candle to the Crashdown. Michael’s foot keeps brushing against his often enough that there’s no way it’s unintentional. Especially not with the way Michael smiles into his milkshake. 

If they weren’t surrounded by families with young kids, Alex might even feel adventurous enough to tease Michael. See how far he could push him before he dragged Alex out of here and back to bed. See if he could push him far enough to attempt a quickie in the bathroom… But this isn’t going to be that kind of day for them even if his meds are finally regulated enough that those sexy options are back on the table for them. 

No. It’s a softer day. A day where Alex regularly keeps picturing Michael with a baby in his arms. Or cutting up the pancakes into bite size bites for a picky toddler. Or sharing a milkshake with a toothless first grader as they talk about the school day. Alex wants all of those memories. He wants a family for them. And it doesn’t help that Alex can see the patient, loving way Michael interacts with all the kids who’ve come up to the table to ask Alex a million questions before their parents can pull them away. 

Hopefully, now that their application has been approved, they’ll have a kid of their own soon enough. 

Michael watches a dark haired boy run past yelling about being a Jedi Knight with a wistful smile and reaches across the table for Alex’s hand. Clearly he’s not the only one thinking about becoming a father today. 

“Are you sure you have to go to work?” he asks, knowing that they’ve only got another hour before Michael told Sanders he would be in. 

“Considering I was given the last six months off, I won’t press my luck asking for more days,” Michael says. “Besides, Old Man Sanders needs a day off. I’m not sure he’s taken once since I left.” 

“That’s cause he’s paranoid and the only person he trusts to run the shop without him there is you,” Alex says, pushing down the feelings of guilt that Michael’s comments bring up. 

He knows that Michael had happily taken that time off and Sanders had other mechanics to cover his absence. Alex doesn’t need to continually feel guilty about the ways his injury has impacted and continues to impact everyone else’s lives. That’s something his therapist and him have been working on. This idea of being undeserving of love or support has been slowly pulling at the seams of his relationship and causing issues for him his entire life, but recently, with the loss of his leg, it’s gotten worse. 

“You and Mendoza are going out anyways, right?” Michael asks, his face momentarily growing worried and Alex knows that if he just asked, Michael would call into work. But he won’t. Alex doesn’t need Michael home for his physical health. He’s getting around fairly well these days so long as he doesn’t go too hard and uses his crutch. He’s just gotten used to Michael being home all day every day with him. 

It’ll be good for them to start spending some time apart again. For too long, their lives have only been each other. Now that they are home, they can have their own space again. Room to breathe. Time to miss each other. Stories to tell over dinner. It’s going to be good for them. 

“Yeah, I’m just hanging out at his place though as we watch some movies. Neither of us really feel like going out today. This,” he gestures around at the crowded diner, “was more than enough socialization for a day.” 

They are interrupted by a waspy woman in a MAGA hat who wants to thank Alex for his service. She goes on about the good work he was doing overseas to a degree that makes him incredibly uncomfortable but doesn’t surprise him. Roswell is a town full of a lot of shitty opinions and people. He finally shakes her hand if only so she’ll go away faster. Once she’s gone, Alex looks to Michael who can only roll his eyes. 

“Gemma Birkhart,” he says the name like it’s poison. “Interesting she has no problem thanking  _ you _ for  _ your _ service. When she came to Sanders, she refused mine.” 

Alex doesn’t have to ask why. Michael is the best mechanic in town and everyone knows it. If anyone refused his service, it’s not about his ability to fix a car. 

“What did she think if you touched her car she might catch the gay?” Alex asks with a snort. 

He hates that they still live here most days. He understands why they do. Michael feels a need to stay close to his siblings and the crash site, and with the military constantly shipping him off for several months at a time, Alex had agreed to live wherever Michael had wanted. And it’s not all bad. The Mendoza’s only live an hour away and he’s got Arturo and the DeLuca’s here. But this town and it’s ever present homophobia can be stifling. He hates that Michael has to deal with it alone when he’s not around. 

“It’s fine. Sanders charged her an HRA tax,” Michael says. “Which he then gave to me and I used it to send you that care package right before Thanksgiving.” 

“An HRA tax?” Alex asks, amused, knowing it’s gonna be good, whatever it is. 

“The homophobic, racist, asshole tax,” he explains. 

Alex laughs. “And when people ask what the charge is for?” 

“Nobody ever asks,” he says. “They see the word taxes and complain about how the socialists are ruining this once great nation. Meanwhile, I made $3,000 off this town’s homophobia last year alone.” 

“So in other words, $3,000 worth of homophobic comments have been said about you.” 

“Relax,” he says. “Sticks and stones and all that shit. What do I care if they say shit about me? It only sucks when they say shit about you.” 

Alex gives him a look. It should all suck. Michael shouldn’t have to hear any of it. 

He’s about to tell him as much when Michael’s phone rings. When he pulls it out of his pocket, Alex can see the screen just long enough to know it’s an unfamiliar number but the area code and first three digits are the same as their adoption agency. Michael gives him a look like he doesn’t know what to do. 

“Answer it,” he says, waving him on so he’ll do so before it goes to voicemail. His heart starts to race and he quickly moves to join Michael on the other side of the booth. He presses his ear against the phone trying to hear as Michael says hello. 

“Mr. Guerin?” a woman says. 

“Yes?” Michael’s nervous. Alex can hear it in his voice. He scoots closer so that they are touching from hip to ankle. Michael’s hand lands on his thigh and Michael can feel the tension radiating off of him. Alex can’t make out everything the woman is saying due to the noise of the restaurant, but he makes out the words adoption agency. 

“What can I do for you?” Michael asks, he sounds so polite and calm even though Alex can feel he is anything but. 

Alex feels like he might throw up and he wishes that it was quiet enough to put the phone on speaker so that he could actually make out what is happening. It’s taking everything in him not to yank the phone out of Michael’s hand to hear for himself. 

“What?” Michael asks. It’s breathy. Shocked. The hand on his thigh squeezes painfully and Alex holds his breath. 

“Yeah, no, thank you,” Michael says as a smile starts to break out on his face. “Thank you!” 

Michael hangs up the phone and it drops to the table with a loud thud. He looks at Alex, eyes wide in disbelief. “Somebody chose us.” 

It feels like the world stops. Suddenly there are no other sounds but his heart beating loudly in his ears. No other voices but Michael’s repeating, “somebody chose us.” The only thing he can see is the sunlight hitting Michael’s overjoyed face, reflecting off of his tears as his smile nearly reaches his ears. 

“Are you serious?” he asks, because he needs to be sure. But when Michael nods his head, Alex starts to cry himself. 

“We’re gonna have a baby,” Michael says, shaking his head in disbelief as happy tears begin to fall. Alex isn’t sure he’s seen Michael this happy since their wedding day. 

Alex can’t believe it either as he starts to laugh, too overjoyed to stay silent but brain unable to form words. 

Michael pulls him in for a kiss, not caring that they are surrounded by half the town, and Alex finds he couldn’t care less either. Not today. Not when they’ve just been told they are about to become fathers. That all of their fears and anxieties over the last several months about what they would do if they couldn't get approved, later replaced with the fear of never being chosen? They’d been unwarranted. 

They are going to be fathers. Somewhere out there, is their little girl or boy just waiting for them. Ready. Theirs. 

It’s nearly impossible to kiss with both of them smiling so wide, but god do they try. Alex’s hands cup the back of Michael’s neck and hold him in place as Michael’s hands grasp at the front of his shirt. 

“Thank you,” Michael whispers repeatedly in between kisses and it only makes Alex’s smile that much wider seeing how ecstatic Michael is at the news. That’s how he knows they are making the right call. The ache in his heart is a good one. It’s one that calls out for the missing piece of their family. A missing piece, it turns out, isn’t that far out of reach. 

“Did they say when? If it was a boy or a girl?” he asks, pulling away from the kiss, but Michael holds his face so that he can’t go far. 

“December,” Michael says. “And I don’t know, I didn’t ask.” 

Michael pulls away, his face horrified. “I didn’t ask. I should have asked. I have a million questions and I didn’t ask a single one.” 

“It’s alright,” he says. “We have time. We’re having a baby.” 

The words still don’t seem real even as he’s saying them. 

“We’re having a baby,” Michael repeats, rubbing Alex’s tears away with his thumb. “It’s really happening.” 

And even if Alex didn’t want this with everything he had in him, the look on Michael’s face would be reason enough. Michael has wanted this forever, though he hasn’t always been brave enough to admit as much. Was willing to settle for less if it meant keeping Alex happy. But he doesn’t have to settle. Because they are on the same page and ready to take this jump together. 

“Everything okay boys?” Arturo asks when he comes over to take their plates out of the way. Alex pulls away from Michael just far enough to look around the room. He’d forgotten where he was for a minute there. So distracted and caught up in the moment. 

“It’s perfect,” Alex says, finding that statement to be true for the first time in a long time. He leans back against Michael and smiles when Michael’s hand makes its way into his own. 

“We’re gonna be dads,” Michael says excitedly and Arturo’s eyes grow big. 

Dads. Damn. Hearing Michael say it sends a thrill of excitement through him. He’s ready to head home and immediately start planning for the baby to arrive. There's so much for them to do. They’ve gotta clean out the spare room and turn it into a nursery. They need to baby proof the house. He needs to order supplies, clothes, toys, everything. God, there is so much they’ll need to do, but instead of that giving him anxiety, he’s steady. Ready. 

Michael squeezes his hand and when Alex looks back at him, he’s beaming. 

“Alejandro?” Arturo asks, looking at him for confirmation. 

He nods. “We just got the phone call.” 

Arturo lets out a happy cheer, clapping his hands as he says loudly, “¡Finalmente! ¡Ustedes chicos me tuvieron esperando para siempre! ¡Me preocupada que nunca nos dieras para amar!”

Alex blushes, ducking his head as people all around them turn to look at what the commotion is all about. He’s not embarrassed though. Far from it. He’s pleased. Arturo is the closest thing to a grandfather their child is going to ever have and it makes Alex happy to see how pleased Arturo is at the news. His own father certainly won’t be and Alex knows that once news reaches him, his father will have a lot of opinions on the matter. 

Michael wraps his arm around his shoulders and kisses his cheek as Arturo goes on about how excited he is and how he’d expected this news from them years ago. 

“Thank you,” Michael whispers into his ear. . 

“For what?” 

“For giving me a baby,” he explains. Alex glances at Michael and he ends up doing a double-take, surprised by the intensity in his eyes. He just looks so incredibly soft and Alex wants nothing more than to kiss him right now. 

“It’s what we both want,” Alex reminds him and Michael’s smile grows impossibly wider as Arturo calls out, “Free milkshakes for everyone!” 

Everyone in the restaurant claps loudly, though Alex certainly wonders if they’d do the same if they actually knew why they were celebrating. But he doesn’t dwell on that thought. Not when he’s got so many other, happier thoughts to focus on. 

Arturo grabs one of the waiters by the sleeve and has them go make three peanut butter blast offs as he sits down on the other side of the booth. 

“You are going to be such good fathers,” Arturo says with a proud smile. 

“Thanks,” Michael says without an ounce of self doubt while Alex blushes under the praise. 

“You’ll have to tell us your secret,” Alex says. Arturo is the best father he knows and they will certainly be in need of some help considering neither of them have a great example of fatherhood to fall back on. 

“There’s no secret, Alejandro,” he says with a kind smile. “Kids don’t come with a handbook. Each one is different and needs different things.” 

“Then how do you know what to do?” Alex asks. 

“You just love them and learn as you go,” he says. “If you listen, kids will usually tell you what they need from you.” 

“I guess that was my dad’s problem,” Alex says. “He never listened to us.” 

“He had a firm idea of who he wanted his children to be. Your child is going to be whoever they want, and it’s your job to love them regardless,” Arturo explains. 

Michael squeezes his shoulder. “Alex won’t have a problem with that. His capacity to love is limitless.” 

Alex ducks his head to hide a blush. 

“You are both good boys, despite what this world handed you,” Arturo says. “Any child will be lucky to have you in their lives.”

A waiter brings over three milkshakes and sets them on the table. Arturo raises his glass to toast and they do the same. 

“To fatherhood,” Arturo says. 

Alex looks over at Michael and smiles. “To starting a family.” 

“To  _ expanding _ our family,” Michael clarifies. 

As they clink their classes in celebration, Alex can’t help but daydream about their future child that will be joining them in just a few short months. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your comments have been golden! Thank you so much for the support <3


	6. Chapter 6

“That’s not how you do it,” Alex argues, rubbing his face in frustration and doing his damndest not to step in and do it himself. 

“I am literally reading the directions that say it is,” Michael says, clearly frustrated as well. “And I build and fix shit for a living. It shouldn’t be this hard.” 

He shakes his head and holds his hand out. He can’t watch Michael fumble with this anymore. It cannot possibly be as hard as he’s making it look. Michael snorts, “Fine, here.” 

He hands over the pieces and sits back against the wall, an amused smirk on his face, daring him to do better while he reaches for the beer he’d discarded earlier. 

Alex pulls up the directions to read the next step carefully. “So it clearly says that these two holes line up and you put the screw in there,” Alex says narrating his moves as he goes through them. Only, once the screw is all the way in, the pieces fall right apart. “The fuck?” 

Michael cracks up laughing. The sound sends Mina running into the room to investigate. She lands squarely in Michael’s lap and begins attacking his face with kisses. Through his laughter, he just barely gets out, “Oh yeah, it  _ clearly  _ says.” 

“I don’t understand,” he says, glaring down at the two pieces of wood that aren’t sticking together like the directions say they should be. 

“I’m just highly amused that you thought you could get the thing to work when I couldn’t,” Michael says with a fond roll of his eyes. 

“Fuck off,” Alex says with a laugh. “Last week you tried to help me install the nanny cam like I couldn’t handle some off the shelf basic surveillance equipment.” 

“Can we not call it surveillance equipment like we are going to be spying on our child like the NSA?” Michael asks as Mina finally curls up into his side. 

“I mean, isn’t a nanny cam for spying on your child?” He raises his eyebrow and Michael just shrugs. 

Alex gives the pieces of wood one last critical eye, trying to determine what they are missing before he gives up and tosses the wood aside. He moves to sit down on Michael’s other side. Mina raises her head to investigate, but ultimately decides that Alex can stay. She’s in that phase where she thinks she’s the only one who can get cuddles and affection in the house. 

“It really shouldn’t be this hard to build a crib,” Alex complains, leaning his weight against Michael who rests his head on top of Alex. “Fortified military bases have gone up easier.” 

He grabs Michael’s beer to take a swig as he glares at the half built crib and all the pieces yet to be assembled. 

“Fuck Isobel and this bougie crib,” Michael says. “I’m building the damn thing myself like I said I was going to before I let her get all in my head about safety regulations. As if I’d build anything that could possibly collapse. There’s no way  _ this _ crappy thing is safe. 

Alex hums in agreement. Somehow pressed sawdust hardly seems as sturdy as the solid wood crib Michael had been building in the garage before Isobel had convinced Michael it was the wrong call. He’d literally built Daniel and Angel’s cribs and they’d both survived. The Mendoza’s continue to use one of them for Sofia. So really, what does Isobel know? Alex isn’t even sure she’s ever been around a baby. She thinks she’s suddenly an expert because she reads baby blogs. 

Alex reaches out to place his hand on Michael’s knee and smiles when Michael intertwines their fingers together.

“We’ve got this right?” he asks. 

“What?” 

‘Parenting,” he clarifies, looking around the half finished nursery. Their little boy is due in a few short weeks and Alex has been stressed about their ever growing to-do list that keeps getting longer, worried they won’t finish everything before the baby comes. 

Michael lifts his head so that he can look him in the eyes and smiles softly. “Yes, Alex,” he says, not a hint of doubt. “Our inability to put some crap furniture together isn’t an indication of our parenting skills. It’s an indication of my sister’s bad taste and poor advice.”

Alex snorts. He’s right about that. “The crib you build will be better anyways.” 

“Damn straight.” 

Mina reaches out to steal one of the wood railings and starts chewing on it. Michael grabs it from her mouth and when she whines, he says, “I know. It makes a better chew toy than a crib. But wood is bad for you baby. You’ll get splinters in your gums.” 

She glares at Michael, then looks to Alex for support. 

“Sorry babe,” Alex says. 

Mina huffs and stands up to walk out of the room. 

“I’m glad we’re getting another baby,” Michael says. “Our first one has turned into a moody teenager.” 

Alex laughs. “Yeah, but she’s still perfect though.” 

Michael finishes the last of his beer before standing up and holding out his hands for Alex. 

“It’s getting late. We should head to bed,” he says. 

“So long as heading to bed doesn’t mean going to sleep…” Alex gives Michael a once over as he bites his lower lip and Michael just beams. 

They’ve only recently just started being intimate again, and Alex loves how excited Michael gets at the prospect. 

Michael pulls him to his feet and once Alex is steady, he nuzzles into Alex’s neck, wrapping his arms around his hips and holding him close. 

“I love you,” Michael says.

“Yeah?” he teases, pulling out of Michael’s grasp and walking backwards towards the door. “Why don’t you show me?” 

Michael doesn’t have to be told twice. 

****

Alex stands in the nursery with a paint roller in hand. The furniture is all pushed to the center and covered with a drop cloth. There’s music playing from his bluetooth speaker and with one wall done, he’s feeling good. Productive. Not at all anxious about the fact that Lucas is due in just a few short days and they are still trying to get everything together for him. He trusts Michael when he promises that they have enough time to finish everything. He trusts that they are truly ready for this next chapter in their lives. 

His heart is full of warm feelings and the only thing he’s feeling is excitement. 

Mina comes into the room first and Alex grabs her collar before she can step in the paint tray or brush against the wall. Michael had been watching her as he worked in the garage on refinishing the changing table. He’s confused for a second, because it’s too early for it to be time for dinner already. He looks up to see Michael standing in the doorway, tears in his eyes. 

“What’s wrong?” he asks, instantly worried. “Is it something with Isobel?” She’s only just come out of the pod she’d been in for the last several weeks while Liz and Michael worked on a cure. She’d seemed fine enough, but if Michael is this upset… 

Michael shakes his head as his arms wrap around himself. “It’s the baby,” he manages to get out before the sobs start in. 

Alex’s hand drops, not even caring if Mina goes running into the paint. The paint roller falls to the ground. His stomach sinks all the way to his toes as he feels his heart shatter into a thousand pieces. He reaches up to press against his chest, as if that is going to somehow help. 

“No,” he says, needing Michael to tell him that he’s misunderstood. That this isn’t happening. 

“Hannah wants to keep him,” Michael says as he sinks down the floor, not noticing that he’s sitting against a wet wall. Or, not caring. He hiccups several times through his sobs and Mina moves to comfort him like Alex should be doing, but he’s frozen. 

“No,” he repeats. “She can’t do that.” 

There’s a rage building inside of him. He wants to burn the world to ash. His body is shaking and he feels like he could crawl out of his skin. He just wants to yell and smash things until they are as broken as he feels. 

It’s not right. She can’t just promise them a baby and change her mind at the last minute. 

“She’s seventeen! How is she going to raise a baby?” Alex argues. 

“Alex—” Michael pleads with him, and it’s the look of desperation on his face that breaks him. He sinks to the floor and pulls Michael into his arms as they both cry. 

This had been what he’d been worried about when they’d first started talking about kids. That something would happen. That they’d get their hopes up only to have them shattered. And shattered they are. Mina tries to lick the tears off of both of their faces and neither of them have the energy to tell her to stop. It doesn’t help through. Kisses won’t bring them their Lucas back. 

“She said that Peter is going to help,” Michael whispers after what feels like hours crying on the floor. It’s now dark outside and Alex has no idea what time it is. 

Alex scoffs. “The same Peter that demanded she get an abortion? 22 year old, unemployed Peter who called her a waste of space.  _ That _ Peter?” 

Michael shrugs and Alex can’t contain his anger. He picks up the closet thing he can grab, which happens to be the stuffed shark that Daniel had picked out for Lucas at the zoo last week and throws it at the wall. 

“The agency told us this could happen, but…” Michael trails off as he begins crying again and Alex pulls him in until he’s crying into his lap. His own bottom lip quivers as he tries to hold back another round of tears. Michael needs him to be strong right now. One of them has to be. It’s just hard to feel strong when he’s so broken. 

****

A week after they got the devastating news about Lucas and two days before Christmas, Alex finds himself sitting in a lawn chair out in the junkyard waiting for Michael to finish up his work on the engine of an old Ford. He’s been staying close by recently. Michael has taken the news especially hard and needs the regular reassurance. But also, Alex is only ever able to keep his shit together when he’s focused on Michael. 

It’s needy and codependent, but they’ve just lost a baby so they are allowed to be unhealthy in their coping mechanisms a bit. After all, it could be worse. Neither of them has hit the bottle. Or worse. 

“You know, I tried to adopt once,” Sanders tells Alex, coming to sit down at the empty chair beside him. 

“What?” Alex asks, doing a double take. “Who? When?” 

He doesn’t mean to sound so surprised, but he is. Sanders hates people. Like,  _ all _ people. The only reason he halfway tolerates Alex is because he’s married to Michael. He can’t picture the man with a baby. 

Sanders doesn’t say anything, he just looks over at Michael, then looks back at Alex pointedly. It takes Alex a minute to connect the dots, but when he does, he sits up in his seat, eyes wide with shock. 

“When? What happened?” Alex asks, eyes darting between Michael and Sanders as his mind races with possibilities. 

Michael never had a home that treated him with kindness. By the time he hit junior year in high school, things had gotten so bad with his group home that Michael had run away and started living in the back of the truck he’d managed to buy off of Sanders. The only safe place Michael had was Sanders’ couch a few times a week. To hear that he could have lived with Sanders the whole time? It pulls at his heart painfully. 

“When he was a kid. Back when they first found him wandering in the desert, I tried to take him home,” Sanders says and it confuses Alex. “They didn’t want to give a kid to an old man that smelled like bathtub gin.” 

“So they took him to a meth house instead?” Alex asks, incredulous. “Does Michael know this?” 

Sanders shakes his head. 

“You have to tell him,” Alex says. 

“I don’t have to do nothin’ kid. That boy doesn’t need another thing to look back on with regret. The world has been cruel enough,” he says. 

“Then why did you tell me?” he asks. It’s not like Alex is capable of keeping secrets from his husband. At least, not secrets as big as this. This isn’t him eating the last Oreo and pretending that he has no idea what happened. Or like the time he scratched Michael’s Chevy and told Michael that it was a jerk at the supermarket. This is real. 

Sanders leans his elbows on his legs and fixes Alex with a stare that he can feel in his bones. “Because I want you to know that I get it.” 

“Get what?” he asks, shifting in his seat uncomfortably at the way Sanders seems to see right through him. 

He’s not used to having conversations like this with the man. Their conversations are surface level and civil. They talk about the weather. Sanders asks when the last time he had his oil checked was. They tease each other about baseball. They’ll gang up to give Michael a hard time about his taste in music. They don’t have serious talks. At the end of the day, Sanders is really more of Michael’s support than he is Alex’s and that’s okay. Alex appreciates everything that Sanders does for Michael. 

“I get how demoralizing the process is,” he says. 

And that’s exactly it, isn’t it? The process has been demoralizing. He’s lost all confidence in himself that parenting is the right decision for them. It’s hard not to blame himself every time he sees Michael crying. 

“How did you get past it?” he asks, cause right now, he doesn’t see an end in sight for them. 

Sanders shakes his head. “Nope. Not taking that one on. My path won’t offer you any comfort, boy.” 

“Why?” 

Sanders tilts his head and looks at him like it should be obvious. “Because I got past it by reminding myself that I was in no shape to be somebody’s father. And that’s not true for you two.” 

Alex’s heart squeezes at the word father like it always does these days and he swallows down the unwelcome emotions that it brings. He looks over to where Michael is bent over the hood of the car, his hips moving to the beat of the music coming from the old radio. He focuses on that instead. On Michael and the news that Sanders had once tried to adopt him. 

“I don’t know, you did right by Michael,” he says. 

Sanders scoffs. “I didn’t do enough. System still destroyed him. Any pieces of him that came out halfway decent was because of you.” 

Sanders isn’t giving himself nearly enough credit for the ways he supported Michael in high school, but it’s not an argument Alex is going to win against him today. 

“It was because of  _ him _ ,” Alex clarifies. “He’s a good person. At his core. Not many people are as kind or forgiving as he is.” 

Sanders gets a wistful smile on his face as he looks off into the distance, saying, “yeah, they are a rare breed.” 

Alex sits back in his chair, closes his eyes, and tilts his head up to the sun. He soaks in the warmth, trying to pull as much light in as he can, but inside, everything is just dark and empty. 

“Can I give you some advice even though I’m hardly at liberty to offer it?” Sanders asks. 

Alex opens his eyes and looks over at him. “Sure.” 

“Don’t give up.” 

Alex sighs. It’s what everyone has been telling them, but he’s not interested in hearing it. He doesn’t need tired cliches. He needs Lucas. 

“You boys deserve a baby,” he says. “Don’t throw in the towel because of some roadblock.” 

“It was more than a roadblock,” he grumbles. They’d been planning for Lucas for months and they’d only been days from his due date when Hannah had changed her mind. It’s not something they are bound to get over anytime soon. 

“Yeah,” Sanders relents. “But still. Don’t give up.” 

“I don’t know if we can handle going through this again,” he argues. It would destroy Michael. Fuck. It would destroy  _ him _ . 

“You can,” he says knowingly. “You’re both tough as nails and have been through worse. This is a tough break but you’ll get past it.” 

Alex doesn’t feel like they will, but he’s saved having to say as much by Michael walking over to them, Mina at his side, clearly awake from her nap and ready to play. “What are we talking about?” he asks. 

Sanders stands up. “I was just telling your husband here that the Diamondbacks are superior to the Dodgers.” 

Michael grumbles. “Could you not? I’m hungry and I don’t want to sit here for the next hour while Alex tells you all the reasons you’re wrong Old Man.” 

Sanders waves him off. “What would you know? Do you even know what a base is?” 

“I certainly hit enough of them in high school,” Michael says with a smirk and Alex snorts.

Sanders makes a face. “Get out of here before I throw you out. Nobody wants to hear about your sexual history.” 

Michael lets out a small huff of a laugh. He smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. It’s hard for him to joke these days. His mind is always elsewhere, down in Albuquerque with Hannah and Lucas. He’d been born two days ago, not that Michael knows that. Alex had gotten real sad yesterday and hacked into Hannah’s private Instagram and saw the picture she’d posted of Lucas. Well, Andrew now. Lucas was the name they were going to give him… It had gutted Alex to see. He hadn’t bothered showing Michael. He doesn’t need that kind of pain in his life. 

Alex reaches down to hook the leash onto Mina before looking back up at Michael. “You ready to go home?” 

“So long as going home means eating pizza on the couch and not having to move for the next several hours.” 

Alex nods. That’s about all he’s got the energy for as well. 

****

“Where are you Uncle Mikey? We’re making Christmas cookies!” Alex hears Daniel asking as he comes into the room. He peaks over Michael's shoulder to wave at the camera. Daniel, Michael and Sofia are all on FaceTime. 

“Uncle Alex and I are staying in for Christmas, remember?” Michael says, and Alex rubs his back in support. 

They’d originally planned to have a new baby with them this year, which is why they’d cancelled their usual Christmas plans of spending Christmas Eve at the Mendoza's so they could wake up and all open presents together. When they’d gotten the news about Lucas, they could have changed their mind. Sara and Diego had begged them to come over so they wouldn’t be alone, but it hadn’t felt right. They were still grieving and didn’t feel the need to ruin anyone else’s holiday just because their own had been destroyed. 

“Mommy says you’re not supposed to be alone on Christmas,” Angel tells them. 

“Well luckily, I’m not alone, am I?” Michael says. “I’ve got Alex and I’ve got Mina.” 

Angel clearly doesn't like that response if the huff he gets is any indication. 

“Alright, kiddos, go see your father, the cookies are ready,” Sara’s voice comes over the line and the camera moves around for a minute or two before it settles on her face. “Hey you guys.” 

“Hi.” 

“I’m not gonna push,” she says and Michael rolls his eyes as Alex says, “But?” 

“But I’m just going to make it clear that if at any point that house becomes too empty or too big, you know that our door is always open. Any time. Day or night,” she says. 

“We’ll keep that in mind,” Alex tells her. “Have a good Christmas.” 

“Love you guys,” she says. 

“Love you too,” Michael says before ending the call. He turns in his chair to look at Alex. “I know I should feel bad about not going over there, but I just can’t be around them right now. I get jealous and it’s not fair. They didn’t do this.” 

Alex puts his arms around Michael and doesn’t protest when Michael pulls him into his lap and rests his head against his heart, listening to his heartbeat. He runs his fingers through Michael’s hair. It’s getting long. Unruly some could say. But Alex loves it all the same. 

“We’re entitled to our feelings,” he says, reminding himself about what his therapist had told him the other day when he’d called her up for an emergency session. Michael hums in agreement but doesn’t add anything more. “What do you want to do today?” 

“I think we need to take it down,” he says, so quietly that Alex barely hears him. 

“Take what down?” 

“The nursery,” Michael says. 

Alex pulls back and places his hands on either side of Michael’s face to guide him to look at him. 

“Are you sure you’re ready for that?” he asks. 

Alex has wanted to take the nursery apart from the day they’d gotten the news, but Michael hasn’t been ready. 

Michael shrugs. “I don’t think I am, but I also can’t keep walking past it. Every time I see that door I just want to cry.” 

Alex nods, he knows the feeling. “Alright. We’ll take it down.” 

“Bailey is due in a few months,” Michael says. “We should probably send everything to the Greens.” 

Alex’s heart skips a beat and he stares down at Michael in shock. 

“What?” Michael asks. 

“I mean, we haven’t talked about it,” he says. 

Neither of them have been remotely capable of broaching the topic of trying again, but Alex had assumed that Michael would want to. Eventually. Even if he was going to need some time. It was Alex that wasn’t sure it was a good idea. But now that Michael is offering to send all their baby stuff to their friends, Alex feels incredibly defensive. 

“Do you really want to keep all of it if we don’t have a baby?” Michael asks. 

“We don’t have a baby now, but…” he trails off, not sure himself how he wants to finish that sentence. 

“But what?” Michael asks. “Are you telling me you want to try again?” 

Alex shrugs. The idea of trying again sounds terrifying. But then, so does the idea of giving away all of their baby stuff. 

“I don’t know,” he answers honestly. 

Michael sighs deeply. “I assumed you were done.” 

“I don’t know,” he repeats himself. 

“Alex.” 

“What?” Michael gives him a look like he thinks Alex is being purposefully difficult, but he’s not. 

“Do you want to try again?” he asks. 

“I don't know,” he says and it earns him a dirty look from Michael so he adds, “I can’t go through this again.” 

It’s honest, at least. He can’t go through this again and he doesn’t think Michael can either. 

“Okay,” Michael says though it’s clear he wants to say more. 

“But…” 

“But?” Michael asks, and this time it’s Alex’s turn to be annoyed. 

“Do  _ you _ want to try again?” he asks. 

Michael doesn’t answer him. He just sits back in his seat and throws his head back against the headrest. Alex can see a myriad of emotions cross his face, but he remains silent. 

“I need you to use words. I can’t just read your mind,” he says, growing impatient as he anxiously awaits Michael’s answer. 

Michael takes a big breath in and squares his shoulders, looking Alex straight in the eyes. “I want a baby.” 

The moment Michael says it, Alex feels an immense relief and knows it to be true for himself. 

“Me too,” he says. 

“But I don’t think I can spend another several months preparing for one only to get heartbroken when it doesn’t work out,” Michael admits. 

Alex nods. He gets that. He really does. Hope is a scary thing. “Me neither.” 

“Where does that leave us?” Michael asks. 

Alex shakes his head. He doesn’t know. But what he does know is that they don’t need to have all the answers today. 

“Why don’t we just pack up the nursery and put everything in the garage for now?”

“Yeah.” 

****

They stand in the nursery surrounded by several half filled totes while Mina sleeps on the baby mattress that had been moved to the floor when Michael disassembled the crib. They haven’t been here since the first night and it’s tough. Alex’s eyes regularly drift to the smeared wall where Michael had ruined his favorite shirt and the giant paint stain on the wood floor. Permanent reminders of the night that their lives had fallen apart. 

Michael must see where his eyes are currently trained on the floor, because he moves over to stand in front of him and places his finger under his chin to get him to look up. “It can be scraped off and refinished.” 

His voice is soft and careful. Alex knows that Michael would go get the tools right now to do it if he said that was what he needed. But as much as the reminder bothers him, erasing it feels even worse. 

“I don’t care about the floor…” Alex says, the rest of the sentence doesn’t need to be said. They both hear it all the same and grow sad. 

“I know.” 

Michael reaches over to grab the stuffed shark that Daniel had given then and holds it up. His entire left side is covered in paint. “What do you think?” Michael asks. “I think it gives him character.” 

Alex lets out a huff of a laugh, not quite ready for the real thing. “Yeah, until it gets put into somebody’s mouth and we are calling poison control.” 

“Replace the shark. Right. Got it,” Michael says, tossing the shark towards the door. “We won’t tell Daniel.” 

“We’ll take it to the grave,” Alex says, trying for light hearted but failing. Michael wraps his arms around his hips and Alex leans into the touch until his head is resting on his shoulder. If he rests a little too much of his weight against Michael, well, his hip  _ is _ killing him. 

“Do you want to finish the rest of this tomorrow?” Michael suggests. 

Alex nods his head. He looks down at his watch. It’s only 5pm. It feels like it’s nearly midnight. He wonders if it makes him a Grinch for wanting to go to bed this early on Christmas Eve. 

Michael holds his hand as they step out into the hallway. 

“Why don’t you get your pajamas on and I can get dinner ready?” 

Alex doesn’t have time to answer because Michael’s phone starts ringing loudly. Alex assumes that it’s one of his siblings calling to wish them a Merry Christmas and try and harass them into coming over for Christmas dinner again. But the look on Michael’s face when he looks down at the caller ID says otherwise. He shows Alex the screen and Alex’s breath catches when he sees that it’s the adoption agency calling them. 

Alex shakes his head. They haven’t even talked about going back on the list. Michael moves to answer the call, immediately putting it on speaker. 

“Hello?” he says. 

“Mr. Guerin?” a woman says. Silvia, Alex recalls from conversations they’ve had in the past. 

“Yes.” 

“I know that this is very short notice and with everything you’ve been through recently, it might be too much,” she starts. “But we’ve had a child come up for adoption suddenly and since we know your family had been preparing for a baby… Well… We didn’t know if you were still interested in adopting a newborn.” 

Michael looks up at him with wide eyes, unsure how to answer. Alex’s eyes narrow as he processes the stress in the woman’s voice. They’ve spoken with Silvia several times in the past. She’s always been very put together. 

“What’s going on?” Alex asks. 

“We have a mother who is looking to put her child up for adoption,” she explains. “The little girl was born this morning and mom was unprepared. She asked us to find a home as soon as possible.” 

“And how soon is that?” Alex asks, wondering what kind of timeline they are working with. After all, it had taken nearly a year between filling out the application and when Lucas was supposed to come home. 

“New Mexico law states that a mother must take 48 hours,” Silvia explains. “There are 36 hours left on that clock.” 

Michael fumbles with the phone and Alex catches it before it hits the floor. 

“So you’re saying…” Michael starts to say and trials off. 

“I’m saying that there is a baby at Carlsbad Medical Center available if you are willing to take her home,” Silvia says. 

“Fuck,” Alex whispers and Michael stands beside him completely speechless. 

“I understand this is a lot to put on you at once,” she explains. “You are under no obligation to say yes. In fact, if you aren’t ready, we suggest you say no. You’ll still stay on our list if you don’t accept this offer. But you should take some time to talk about it as a family. We just need an answer by tomorrow morning at the latest.” 

Michael nods his agreement, but Silvia obviously can’t see them so Alex steps in, “We’ll call you back as soon as we have a chance to discuss it.” 

“Of course,” Silvia says. “Merry Christmas.” 

They say goodbye and Alex hangs up the phone, handing it back to Michael who is staring ahead in shock. 

Alex lets out a shaky breath. “So much for making this decision later…” 

Michael runs his hands over his face several times before looking around the half assembled nursery. “So much for taking apart the nursery,” Michael says. 

The words cause him pause. It sounds like Michael’s mind is already made up. “So you want to do this?” 

Michael looks confused as he shakes his head. “There’s a kid that needs a home, Alex,” he says like it should be obvious. “We’ve got a home.” 

Alex lets out a heavy breath. He’s having a hard time getting his brain to connect that this is real. Michael’s face grows concerned. “Do you not want to do this?” he asks. 

Alex thinks about saying no. About calling Silvia up and telling her they aren’t interested. That they are still busy mourning the loss of Lucas. It makes him queasy. 

“No, I do,” he says. The words feel right. Something within him slots into place and the world feels right again. Not perfect, there’s still an ache there. But he knows that this is the right step for them. 

“Okay then,” Michael says with a nervous smile. “Let’s call her back and work out the details.” 

“A baby girl,” Alex whispers to himself, letting himself picture it. Michael smiles at him. Beams. 

“Our baby girl.” 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For starters, thank you all for your patience with this update. My brain has been pretty awful lately and February has hit hard. 
> 
> We are going to ignore timelines (hey if RNM writers can, so can I) and just pretend that the song 'Falling Like the Stars' to which this fic got her title came out about 6 months prior to its actual release date. And no, I'm not gonna explain why. You can find out for yourself when you read ;)

Alex sits at the small conference table in an otherwise empty room with Michael, gripping his hand tight as they wait for Silvia to return and tell them if they are able to finally meet their daughter. They’ve been at the hospital since early this morning, working through everything. Mom, for her part, hasn’t wanted to meet them, but still had a laundry list of questions for them to answer before she’d been willing to give her consent. Which, she’s finally,  _ finally _ given. 

They’ve still got another 20 hours to go before anything can be made official, but they are so close to their dreams becoming a reality. Alex’s heart is racing a mile a minute and his heart is in his throat. Michael’s leg won’t stop bouncing, knocking into his own routinely. As annoying as it is however, he lets it go. They are both on edge and holding their breath in fear that this little house of cards of theirs is going to come tumbling down. 

“You called Mendoza?” Michael asks for what has to be the fifteenth time today. 

“Yes, they are going to finish unwrapping presents then he’ll come over to help put the crib back together,” he explains. 

“Good,” Michael says, taking a deep breath that does nothing to calm him down. “I love Max and Isobel, but I don’t trust them to put the nursery back together correctly.” 

“It’s gonna be fine,” he says, squeezing his hand. He needs to hear that just as much as Michael does. 

“Max is going to take care of Mina,” Michael says more to himself than to Alex, as if he’s going through a list of responsibilities in his head. Alex doesn’t bother telling him to stop worrying, that everything is going to be alright. He’s entitled to a distraction. Worrying about their house is certainly less stressful than the stress Alex is experiencing worrying over this adoption falling through for them. 

The door clicks open and Michael’s hand flies out of his own as he jumps to his feet. His hand lands on Alex’s shoulder and squeezes almost painfully as they look over to Silvia, holding their breath. But she’s smiling and that has to be a good sign, right? 

“Come with me,” she says. 

Alex has never jumped out of his seat faster, and the only thing that keeps him from losing his balance is the tiniest hint of telekinesis to hold him steady. They follow Silvia to the nurses’ station where they are met with a bubbly nurse in Christmas tree patterned scrubs. She’s practically bouncing on her feet which matches the way Alex’s heart is pounding in his chest. 

“Are you ready to meet your daughter?” the nurse asks. 

Alex can’t form words due to the lump that’s found its way into his throat. He nods his head instead. Michael manages to get out a breathy, “Yes.” 

Michael has his hand in a vise grip as they are brought over to a nursery with a large window to look in on the handful of babies inside. Alex’s eyes scan the room, trying to figure out which one is theirs as the nurse takes their temperature. She then directs them over to a sink to wash their hands. As they both scrub especially carefully, Michael says softly, only loud enough for Alex to hear, “This is really happening right? I’m not having some really vivid trip?” 

Alex has been wondering the same thing. Feeling like everything happening is too good to be true. But even back during that month of senior year when he’d experimented with party drugs, he’d never had a trip as vivid as this. 

“Yeah,” he says, his own voice breathy and full of emotion. “I think this is real.” 

His heart is filled with so much hope that he doesn’t know what to do with it and he’s terrified of it getting destroyed. Michael leans over and gives him a quick kiss. Nothing that lingers, they’ve got an audience after all, but just enough to remind each other that they are there. Whatever happens, they have each other. 

When they turn back to the nurse, she’s holding out face masks for them. 

“I thought you said she was healthy,” Michael says, taking the mask and putting it on, but even with his face half blocked, the worry is still clear. Alex feels it too. Nervous that something is wrong… 

“She’s doing great,” the nurse says, putting on her own face mask. “But she had no prenatal care and we believe she’s late preterm. Probably 36 weeks. So the doctors are being cautious and running extra tests to make sure that everything is okay. In the meantime we can do our part and make sure we don’t spread anything to her that her little immune system can’t fight off yet. Right?”

When she puts it like that, it doesn’t sound so terrifying. Michael takes a big breath and Alex does what he can from behind a mask to silently comfort him.

They are led into the nursery and shown to a crib with the most precious, perfect looking baby in all of history. She looks impossibly tiny, but strong. She’s got the sweetest little face with a little button nose. His eyes move over her body, clocking the small handful of sensors taped to her chest and following them up to the machine currently monitoring her vitals as his heart clinches. 

The nurse follows his gaze and says, “Everything looks good.” 

He nods, reassuring himself that she’s fine. Like the nurse had said, they are just being cautious. When he looks over at Michael, there are tears in his eyes and he’s visibly holding back more. Michael reaches out to run a finger over her face and their daughter turns into the touch, causing Michael to let out a small gasp. 

“Can we…” Alex starts to ask if they can pick her up, but pauses. Unsure if he should put that out in the universe, terrified they’ll be told no. 

“Of course,” the nurse says, reading his question anyways. She carefully removes some of the sensors before picking her up. When she looks between the two of them in question, Alex points to Michael. 

“Are you sure?” Michael asks him, and Alex has never been more sure of anything in his life. He wants to see Michael holding their daughter. The two people he loves most in the world. Yes, he’s only known his daughter a total of 1.5 minutes and yet, he’s ready to take a bullet for her. 

“We’ll both get turns, go ahead,” he says. 

Michael takes the baby from the nurse and cradles her close to his chest as he leaves a kiss on the top of her head and whispers something none of them can hear. The smile that lights his face is glowing. Alex can’t help but cry at how happy he looks. At how perfect he looks. Alex was right, Michael was born to be a father. 

He fumbles around for his phone before he hears a click and when he looks up, Silvia is taking a photo. He sends her a grateful look and she winks. “Let me document the moment. You just focus on your little girl.” 

Alex moves to Michael’s side as close as he can get and rests his chin on Michael’s shoulder as he stares down at his daughter. Their daughter. Their perfect family. 

“Hi baby,” he says, reaching his hand around to run a finger down her face, noting how impossibly soft her skin is. “We’re your dads.” 

Michael makes a choked sound and Alex reaches out with his free hand to hold onto his hip and steady him. Ground him in this moment so he knows that it’s real. 

“She’s so beautiful,” Michael whispers and Alex hums in agreement. 

“Do you have a name picked out?” the nurse asks. 

Michael looks up at Alex, eyes wide. They hadn’t even thought to discuss it. Everything had happened so fast and once they’d said yes, they’d been too caught up with getting the house in order that they hadn’t sat down and found a name. 

“We haven’t decided yet,” Alex says, honestly, hoping they don’t look like bad parents because of it. 

“Understandable,” she says. “When you do decide on a name, let us know. For now, she’ll just be Baby Guerin-Manes.” 

Baby Guerin-Manes. Hearing it sends a warm thrill through his body and he feels more fulfilled than he believes he ever has before. It’s just right. 

****

Alex sits in a rocking chair feeding their daughter a bottle and staring down at her dark, inquisitive eyes in awe. So far, all of her tests have come back negative. Her airways look good along with her heart and her organs. They are just waiting for some final bloodwork to come back, but the nurse has allowed them to bring her to a private room where they could remove their masks and be with her more comfortably without worrying about the other babies and their families. 

He’s grateful for the privacy and the space. While the adoption can’t go through for another 15 hours, Silvia has assured them that mom is steady in her decision and the wait period is a formality at this point. They’ve already used their newfound freedom and space with their daughter to call the Mendozas with an update and let them see their baby girl for the first time. Max and Isobel had been next. Max had held the phone out to show Mina but their dog really couldn’t care less about looking at a video on a phone, even if she did wag her tail excitedly at the sound of her daddies’ voices. 

Currently, Michael sits at his feet, head against his knee, one hand holding open a book of baby names while the other threads through their daughter’s dark curls. They’ve been told so long as the bloodwork comes back clear, they’ll be allowed to take their daughter home when their 15 hours are up. Both of them are determined to leave here with a name picked out before that happens. 

“Okay, none of those,” Michael says with a sigh as he fumbles to turn the page without letting go of their daughter. They have already gone through half of the alphabet and so far their list of contenders only includes 4 names, neither of which they were equally in love with. 

Michael balances the book on his lap as he traces his finger over the list with a frown on his face, looking for anything he might like to suggest. They’d taken weeks to land on the name Lucas before. And Alex had felt the need to control that entire process. To be the one reading the book first and suggesting names he liked, worried Michael would skip over the perfect name. However, this time around, with their daughter in his arms, he feels a lot more relaxed about the situation. 

“Nevaeh is pretty,” Michael says, though his tone doesn’t sound convinced. “It means heaven.” 

“Which neither of us believes in,” he points out. 

“Nia?” Michael suggests and Alex looks at their daughter and grimaces, not impressed. “All of these names suck.” 

“Well we have to name her something,” Alex says. She finishes the bottle and Alex pulls it away and sets it on the nearby cart. He shifts her carefully until she’s resting against his shoulder, not yet practiced enough for the move to be seamless. He then begins patting her on the back. When he looks down, Michael has the softest expression on his face and it pulls at Alex’s heart. “What?” 

Michael shrugs. “Watching you with her.” 

Alex smiles. He understands the appeal. He could sit and watch Michael caring for her for hours. His mind is still struggling to process that this is real for them and he imagines Michael’s is too. 

“ _ Her _ needs a name,” he says, kissing her crown of curls as she snuggles into his neck. His heart swells and it feels like his heart grows impossibly larger. Every moment, he’s finding himself more and more in love. 

Michael sighs and goes back to looking at the book. He grumbles as he reads off this name or that, talking about how he wasn’t going to name their kid anything that could get them beat up on the playground. But then, out of nowhere he gasps and drops the book. 

“Michael?” 

“Nora,” he says, looking up at Alex, confused, but a look of wonder on his face. 

“Okay?” 

“No, Alex, Nora,” he says, getting excited. “That’s… I don’t know how to explain it but I just got a feeling, like... “ he looks around the empty room as if to confirm they are still alone before dropping his voice to barely a whisper. “I know. That’s her name. Nora.” 

Alex wants to ask him more questions, because it’s clear that something beyond just a simple epiphany came over Michael, but he doesn’t. He can ask another time. When they are home and can be 100% assured of their privacy because Alex suspects that whatever that something is, it’s alien. Instead he looks down at their daughter, curious to try the name on and see if it fits. “Nora.” 

Michael squeezes his thighs, his face bright. “It’s perfect right?” 

Alex smiles, saying her name again and enjoying the way she nuzzles into his chest. He wraps his arm around her more, aware of the fact that his heart now lives outside of his body. Nora. 

“Yeah,” he whispers, placing a kiss to the top of her curls. Michael’s right. It’s perfect. 

“Hi Ms. Nora,” Michael says, rubbing at her back. He sits up on his knees and leans in close, kissing her cheek. Alex breathes in the pleasant mixture of rain and new baby that now signals home for him. “Your daddy and I love you very much.” 

Alex leans forward until his forehead is resting against Michael’s. Neither of them say anything, but they don't have to. He breathes in deep, soaking this moment in so that it solidifies itself as a memory. He wants to remember this moment for the rest of his life. The day their family grew and his heart felt more full that he ever thought possible. 

****

Alex is signing their discharge paperwork along with a few last minute forms from the adoption agency while Michael stands at the window with Nora, quietly explaining to her that they get to go home. Nora’s been given a clean bill of health and with a few more strokes of the pen, Nora will be theirs to take home. There will be a post adoption visit and a finalization hearing in their future before anything is technically official but that’s a worry for another day. Today, they are bringing Nora home and Alex feels like the weight of all of their problems are a millions years away. 

The door opens and Sara walks into their room with an empty carseat in hand and a wide smile, Isobel immediately behind her carrying an oversized teddy bear. 

“Where is my goddaughter?” Sara asks, causing Isobel to snort and declare that  _ she _ is clearly Nora’s godmother, but all bickering stops instantly when they see Nora in Michael’s arms. Isobel gasps, her hand going up to her face as tears fill her eyes. Meanwhile, Sara reaches out to take Nora from Michael’s arms without even asking, but Michael doesn’t seem to mind. 

“Isn’t she perfect?” Michael asks as Isobel pulls him in for a hug. 

“Completely perfect,” Isobel says. “I’m so happy for you.” 

Michael blushes and ducks his head to try and hide it, but Alex can tell that he’s pleased. Once she pulls away, she reaches over Sara’s shoulder to run her finger over Nora’s chubby little cheek. 

“God, you forget how little they are when they’re first born,” Sara says. 

“They think she was born at 36 weeks, it’s hard to know because Mom didn’t know she was pregnant,” Alex explains as he signs the last of the paperwork and stands up to be by them all. “So she’s on the small side.” 

“The twins were born at 34 weeks and they are doing wonderfully,” Sara reminds them. “If the doctors cleared her, then there’s no reason to worry.” 

He hadn’t been worried per se, but it’s still nice to have the reminder. He trusts Nora’s doctors and he especially trusts Sara. She wouldn’t tell them not to worry if there was a reason to be concerned. 

Isobel pulls Alex into a rare hug, which has become more common over the last year since he got back from Afghanistan. They’ve never been enemies, but they've never been especially close either. Michael is Isobel’s person and she can at times get territorial and defensive which has made their relationship more cordial than anything else. But recently she’s been less protective of her time with Michael. More welcoming with her choice in conversation topics during family dinners. And more casual with her affection. 

Whether this change is due to the realization that he’d nearly died overseas or the joy of an expanding family Alex isn’t sure, but he doesn’t hate it. With his own siblings estranged, it’s nice to have family to share in the joy with. 

“Thank you for giving this to my brother,” Isobel whispers into his ear before she pulls away. 

Alex shakes his head. They don’t keep score. They don’t obsess over who gives what, when, and how often. They’d learned early on in their relationship that having a transactional view of love wasn’t healthy for either of them. And he hasn’t given Michael anything. Sure Michael might have wanted this baby for longer, but at the end of the day, they’d both pursued adoption with equal desire to expand their family. 

“You guys did good,” Sara says, her eyes glued to Nora’s face. 

“You know we didn’t actually make her,” Michael says. 

“Yeah, that’s why she looks so cute,” Isobel teases as Michael smacks her. “Alright Mendoza, hand her over. You’ve hogged her long enough.” 

Isobel takes Nora from Sara as Alex moves closer to Michael’s side until Michael wraps his arm around his shoulder and rests his head against his. “You know that we’re never getting Nora back from them right?” Alex teases. 

“Oh, Isobel will hand her over the second it’s time to change her diaper,” Michael laughs. “She’s more of a cool aunt than anything else.”

“Yes, but Sara will change diapers, so what’s your plan to get Nora back from her?” 

“That’s what alien powers are for,” Michael says, moving away just far enough to smile at him. He looks like he has something he wants to say but isn’t. 

“What?” 

Alex can see his brain working overtime for a few moments before he starts talking. “When I was little, I used to hope for a family. Anyone. Just one person that was mine. And now there are more people in my life that love me than I know what to do with. It’s just a lot.” 

“But a good a lot,” Alex says, not needing to ask to confirm. He can see it in the way he smiles. 

“An amazing a lot,” Michael says, leaning in to kiss him. Alex wraps his arms around his waist and pulls him in closer. 

“I used to hope for a family too,” he says. “A different one. A real one.” 

Michael’s hands find their way to either side of his face as he looks at him seriously. “We’re gonna give her more than we ever had. She won’t have to wish for somebody to love her.” 

Alex glances over at where Sara and Isobel are both cooing over Nora and smiles before looking back. He places a kiss to one of Michael’s palms before saying, “I thought I would be more scared to take her home, but I feel ready.” 

“We’ve got this,” Michael agrees. 

****

When they pull into the driveway, Alex gets an excited thrill at the sight of their family waiting out on the lawn for them. Little Sofia is holding a bouquet of balloons while she sucks on her thumb and clings to her stuffed polar bear, leaning against Mendoza’s walker that has been decorated with green and yellow streamers. Daniel is holding up a sign that says, “Welkum hom Nora!” with what looks like a drawing of Alex and Michael holding a baby. Angel is on top of Max’s shoulders wearing a party hat with a kazoo in his mouth. Meanwhile, Max has on a sweatshirt that says, ‘Proud Uncle.’ 

“Oh man, Nora, baby, look! Everyone is so excited to meet you!” Michael says from his spot in the back seat next to Nora. 

Alex cuts the engine as Isobel pulls in behind them. Instantly, they can hear the sound of Angel playing the kazoo loudly. 

“I hope you enjoy music baby,” Alex says with a grimace. Whose brilliant idea was it to give Angel a kazoo? 

“Ignore your daddy. That’s not music, it’s noise,” Michael says as he unbuckles his seatbelt. “But if you listen closely I think your cousin Angel is attempting to play ‘Baby Shark’ which, while still not music, is at least somewhat on theme.” 

“If we were bringing home an ocean animal perhaps,” Alex laughs as he climbs out of the car and instantly begins getting hit with questions. He can hear Mina inside barking up a storm, eager to be let out so that she can see her daddies. 

“Where is she?” Angel asks. 

“Is she cute?” Daniel asks. 

“Of course she’s cute, she’s a baby,” Max answers as he tries to hold Daniel back enough for Michael to be able to get the carseat out of the backseat. 

“Sofie wasn’t cute,” Daniel says. 

“Hey, Sofie was adorable. Stop,” Mendoza cuts in. 

“She was cuter when she wasn’t destroying my Lego Death Star,” Daniel says with a shrug. 

There’s a tugging on his pant legs and when he looks down, Sofia is staring up at him and removes her thumb enough to ask, “Ba-ba?” 

Alex reaches down to scoop her up. “Yeah, we brought the baby home,” he says, shutting the door. He can grab the rest of their stuff later once they are settled in and all the exciting introductions have been made. 

“You won’t be the littlest munchkin anymore, Sof,” Mendoza says to her. She leans over to see into the carseat and exclaims loudly, “Ba-ba!” while clapping her hands. 

“I wanna see!” Daniel says, pulling at the carseat. 

“Gentle bud,” Michael says, but he kneels down on the ground so that he can see Nora. 

“Don’t touch,” Sara says, walking up to the group and Daniel’s hand freezes as it’s stretching out towards Nora’s face. “Not til you’ve washed your hands.” 

Daniel grumbles to himself but is smart enough not to say anything. 

“I wanna see! Let me down, Mr. Max!” Angel whines and Max complies with the request. Alex sets Sofia back down on the ground so that she can stand around the car seat with both of her brothers. The three of them are completely captivated by the sleeping Nora. 

There’s a pat on his back and when Alex looks over at Mendoza, he’s smiling. “Congrats, Dad!” 

“Thanks,” he says, pulling Mendoza into a hug. It feels like just yesterday Alex was congratulating Mendoza on the birth of the twins, wondering if he’d ever have that for himself. Terrified of either answer to that question. Now that the shoe is on the other foot, there isn’t any terror, only joy. 

“A baby looks good on you guys,” he says. 

Alex is sure that his smile is bordering on embarrassing at this point, but he doesn’t care. He turns back to look at Michael, who asks the kids, “What do you think?” 

“She can stay,” Angel says, causing all of the adults to laugh. 

“Well that’s good, I didn’t get a gift receipt. I don’t think you can return babies,” Michael says. 

“Nope, you can’t,” Daniel says, completely missing the joke. “I asked Santa if we could return Sofie and mom said it’s not allowed.” 

“That’s ‘cause my little bug is perfect,” Michael says, leaning over to rub noses with Sofia who hums happily and collapses all of her weight against Michael. He moves to sit down so that she can crawl into his lap and cuddle while she watches Nora. 

“So are we just gonna stand out here in the cold or are we gonna go inside where there’s food and heat?” Isobel asks. 

At the mention of food, Daniel and Angel go running off towards the door yelling about breakfast. Sofia doesn’t move though, perfectly content in Michael’s arms. “Ba-ba Ma?” Sofia asks, pointing at herself. 

“Nope, she’s your Uncle Alex and mine. But you can play with her,” Michael explains. 

Sofia frowns, not thrilled with that answer. She looks between Michael and Nora several times, trying to figure something out. “Ma-ma?” Sofia asks, pointing at Michael.

Michael, without even taking a beat, nods his head. “Yep. I’m Nora’s mommy now.” 

That answer seems to satisfy Sofia enough. She pulls her stuffed polar bear in closer and nuzzles into Michael’s chest. 

“You better hope Nora doesn’t run you the way Sofia does,” Mendoza teases him. Michael gives him the middle finger where Sofia can’t see and it only makes Mendoza laugh harder. 

“Are you hungry little one?” Sara asks her. 

Sofia sits up and looks at Nora one last time. She places her well worn and well loved stuffed polar bear in the car seat with Nora. “Ma,” she says, pointing to herself, making it clear that her little Shiver is on loan and not for keeps. As if that means anything to a 2 day old Nora. She then turns around to kiss Michael before reaching up for Sara, who picks her up to head inside. 

“Guess I should go help feed the offspring and all that,” Mendoza says. 

He gives Alex one last friendly slap on the back before heading inside. It’s as he’s walking away that Alex notices all the Welcome Home decorations on their porch. The unevenly hung streamers make it clear that the decorating had likely been done after Isobel and Sara left for the hospital, and if Alex had to guess, that Angel and Daniel had been the art directors of that endeavor. Which makes it all the more special. 

“Mommy?” Alex asks, holding his hand out to help Michael to his feet. 

He shrugs. “I’m an alien, what do I care about some outdated gender norm created by humans? Bug can call me Nora’s mommy if she wants.” 

Alex reaches down to pick up the carseat, noticing that Nora is now awake and looking up at the world with her beautiful dark eyes. Max gestures to her. “Can I?” he asks, his voice full of nerves. “I promise I washed my hands and everything. Sara gave us all a long lecture about newborns.” 

Alex nods and can’t help but smile when Max bends over to look at Nora properly, reaching out to take hold of her impossibly small hand. “Hi sweet girl,” he says quietly. “I’m your Uncle Max.” 

“I’m gonna read you so many stories. And love you so much. And I’ll always protect you, though I think your daddies have got that more than covered.” Max kisses her hand before standing up. Alex notices that there are tears in his eyes. 

Max pulls Michael into a tight hug and though they are both whispering to each other, Alex can just barely make out Max telling Michael that he’s proud of him. When they pull away, they both turn their heads away to not so subtly wipe away their tears. 

“Who knew all it would take was a baby to bring you two idiots back together again?” Isobel teases, moving in to interrupt the moment, likely to share in some of that sibling love herself. 

“I’m gonna bring Nora inside,” Alex says softly to Michael. He moves to follow, but Alex waves him off, encouraging him to take a few minutes alone with his siblings. They’ve been having a hard year. They deserve to have a few happy minutes amongst the chaos. 

As he approaches the door, he can hear Mina barking incessantly as Liz tries to get her to be quiet. He braces himself, making sure he’s got his balance and has a strong grip on the carseat before opening the door. Mina instantly is at his legs, licking at him and whining. She thankfully doesn’t jump, something they’d been working very hard on. With little kids around all the time, Mendoza only recently out of his wheelchair and using a walker, and Alex still occasionally struggling with his balance, a jumping 60lb dog isn’t desirable for anyone. 

“Oh my gosh she’s so tiny and perfect,” Liz exclaims as Alex leans over to pet Mina, holding Nora away from his body until he knows for sure how she’ll react. Maria thankfully takes the car seat carrier from him. “Vas a romper muchos corazones. ¿No?” 

“No, no,” Alex interrupts with a laugh. “No breaking hearts because she won’t be dating. Ever.” 

Mina is so excited to see him that her entire body is flopping around and she keeps tripping over herself as she stands impossibly close to him while trying to get him to pet every part of her body at once. 

“Yeah, my dad said the same thing,” Liz teases while Maria coos at Nora. “Look how well that turned out for him.” 

“Yeah well your dad didn’t have an Air Force Cross to threaten Valenti with did he?” he asks. 

“Please don’t be that dad,” Liz jokes. “She’ll hate you.”

Maria unbuckles Nora from her carseat and picks her up, cradling her in her arms. “She’s gorgeous.” 

Alex smiles with pride as Maria nuzzles her nose into Nora’s curls, taking in the new baby smell. 

“You’re gonna have to teach us how to keep those curls looking good,” Alex says. 

“Happy to,” Maria says, bouncing Nora as she moves her body to block Liz from taking her out of her hands. 

“Mina, sit,” he says sternly, and Mina complies. Alex takes hold of her collar to make sure that he’s got control over her in case she should try and do anything crazy. “Maria, you can bring her closer. But move slowly.” 

Maria brings Nora closer, giving Mina plenty of time to react and let him know how she’s feeling. 

“This is your new sister,” he says, watching as she sniffs at Nora’s hair. The sensation causes Nora’s little nose to scrunch up but she doesn’t cry. Mina sniffs her a few more times before Michael laughs loudly outside and Mina turns to look at her daddy. 

“Yeah, yeah,” he lets go of her collar so she can run after Michael. 

“Mina will love her once she knows that Nora is part of your pack,” Maria says. Alex gives her a questioning look, wondering how she knows that, and she just shrugs. 

He moves to take Nora from her but Maria ducks away from his hands. “Nope. You had her to yourself for 2 days, it’s time to share the baby,” she says and walks out of the entryway towards the living room, Liz following after her demanding a turn with Nora. 

“Get used to that,” Mendoza says, standing at the archway that leads towards the kitchen . “You won’t be holding your own baby again until all of us have gone home.”

Alex shrugs. While there is a selfish part of him that wants to keep Nora to himself, he also knows that there will be plenty of time with Nora in the future. Plenty of sleepless nights when they’ll be begging for help. “It’s good that she’s so loved. She won’t grow up wondering if anyone cares about her.” 

Mendoza places a hand on his shoulder and squeezes it. “You know that you’re loved? That people care about you, right? That’s why Nora has such a big family. Because you brought all of us together.” 

Alex does know that. Logically, he knows that. He’s grateful for it. If a part of him had seen Michael with his siblings and thought about how he didn’t feel like he could pick up the phone and share the good news with his own, well that wasn’t him feeling sorry for himself. He knows that he’s incredibly lucky for the life that he’s built and the found family he has. 

Rather than expecting an answer from him, Mendoza says, “Come on. Let’s go eat.” 

Alex follows him into the kitchen where Arturo is standing at the stove making chilaquiles. “I didn’t know you were here,” he says, accepting the hug and congratulations from the man. 

“Once I finish this last round, I demand to hold mi nietecita,” he says, waving a spatula at him while he fixes himself a plate. 

“Well you might have to fight Maria for her,” Alex warns. 

“This is okay,” he says. “That is a battle I will win.” 

Alex laughs and goes to take the last open seat at their dining table. Alex is always happiest when they have their family over and their long table is filled with their loved ones. 

“Uncle Alex?” Angel says, his mouth full of toast, earning him a stern look from his mom. He takes his time to swallow before continuing on. “I’m happy you have Nora now.” 

“Me too, bud.” Alex smiles at him. “Me too.” 

****

Alex stands next to the Jeep, waiting for Michael to get off of work so that they can take Nora to her checkup. Nora, bless her heart, is passed out against his chest, forever at her most content when being carried in a sling by one of her daddies. It’s Michael’s first day back to work since Nora came home, and the only reason he’s come back so soon is because Sanders had needed somebody to watch the shop so he could go to an appointment of his own. 

They’ve got a solid twenty more minutes before they absolutely have to leave to get to the doctor on time, and Michael has promised him that it won’t take even half of that to finish up on the engine he’s working on. Alex turns at the sound of tires on gravel and smiles, waving at Sanders. The old man cuts the engine and steps out, eyes zeroed in on Nora. 

“Is this her?” he asks, moving in closer to get a better look. 

“This is Nora,” Alex says, introducing her, turning his body so that Sanders can see her face properly. 

Sanders gasps and looks up at Alex, curious. “You named her Nora?” 

“Yeah,” he says. “Michael found it in a book and we both liked it.” 

“That’s…” Sanders clears his throat. “That’s the only reason?” 

“Yeah, why?” he asks, surprised by the look of emotion on Sanders’ face. In all the years Alex has known him, he’s never been an emotional guy. 

“What’s up?” Michael asks, coming up to them and giving Sanders a confused look before turning to Alex in question. Alex just shrugs. He has no idea what’s going on either. 

“Everything okay?” Michael asks Sanders. 

“You named your little girl Nora,” he says, giving Michael a pointed look, but Michael doesn’t seem to have any idea what he’s getting at if the look of confusion he has is any indication. 

“Yeah? And?” he asks. 

“That name just come to you did it?” Sanders asks. 

“We found it in a book and it felt right. What’s going on?” Michael asks. 

“You don’t know?” he asks. 

“Know what?” Michael asks, losing his patience. 

Sanders takes a deep breath, hooks his thumbs through his belt loops in the way he only ever does when he’s being serious, and says, “I knew your mom, Kid.” 

There’s a sharp intake of breath as Michael takes several steps back and nearly trips over his feet. He knew that Sanders had tried to adopt Michael when he was younger, but he had no idea that there was a deeper connection there. Alex is stunned at the confession so he can only imagine how Michael feels. 

Michael shakes his head. “That’s not… What?” 

“I ran away from home when I was a kid. Got taken in by the foreman at the Long Farm. A kind man who also took in two women who were in need of a place to hide. Your mom was one of them. Ms. Nora, I called her,” Sanders explains. 

It’s Alex’s turn to let out a gasp as his brain starts connecting the dots. Michael and his genius brain gets there faster. 

“My mom’s name was Nora?” he asks, his voice full of emotion. His eyes dart to where their own Nora is still asleep in her sling. 

“You really didn’t know?” Sanders asks, sounding surprised. Michael shakes his head. Sanders clears his throat before he continues to explain, “That’s what we called her. Her real name couldn’t be spoken in any human language. We helped her pick the name Nora out of a book one night.” 

Michael’s eyes find his. Alex sees his own shock and awe mirrored in Michael. 

“You know,” Alex says, sizing Sanders up, seeing him in a whole new light with the knowledge that he’s known Michael’s secret this whole time. “But then why not say something earlier?” 

“I don’t talk about my past. Period,” he says. 

“You’re talking about it now,” Alex points out but Michael interrupts. 

“My mom survived the crash?” he says, his voice cracking. “That doesn’t make any sense. No.” 

“Who do you think put you in that cave boy?” Sanders asks. 

Michael's mouth opens and closes several times, too stunned to talk. Alex knows that Michael has thought about it before. Agonized over the fact that somebody had to have moved them to that cave after the crash. But with nobody left alive to provide answers, it was a mystery that he would never know the answer to. Until now, apparently. 

“But why would she leave me there? Why not let me out of the pod? Crash the party?” he argues. 

“Your momma didn’t tell me everything. I was only a kid. But I know she didn’t think it was safe for you yet. She planned to let you out soon, but…” Sanders trails off, looking down at the ground and Alex gets a sick feeling in his stomach. He reaches out to place his hand against Michael’s back, hoping to steady him against whatever bad news they are about to get. 

“What happened to her?” Michael asks, doing his best to sound brave and unaffected but failing miserably. 

“The Manes brothers caught up with them,” he says, eyes firmly planted on the ground. “The Air Force raided the farm one night. Nobody survived.” 

“Except you,” Michael says, his brain not catching on the name Manes like Alex’s has. 

The Manes brothers. The Air Force. In 1947 that would have been Harlan and Tripp. His family killed Michael’s mom. 

“Lost my only family and my eye that night,” Sanders says, Alex only half hearing the conversation continue around him. Alex’s family knew that aliens were real and they hunted them... “I got the hell out of Roswell. Didn’t ever wanna come back.” 

The air starts to feel thick around him as he takes several steps back. Michael doesn’t notice. Too caught up in the story Sanders is telling. 

“So why did you?” he asks. 

“Your mom left a map to where they hid you. I figured it was my job to look out for you like your momma looked out for me,” Sanders says. “I came to the group home twice, ya know? But they weren’t too keen on letting a junkyard dog adopt a child.” 

Michael looks over at Alex, his eyes filled with tears as his hands tremble. Alex wants to reach out and comfort him, but he can’t. He shouldn’t. Thinking about the life Michael could have had… that he  _ should _ have had if it weren’t for his family paralyzes him. 

“You alright boy?” Sanders asks him. “You look like you’re about to vomit.” 

“Alex?” Michael asks, taking a step towards him, but Alex steps further away from him. 

“Manes men raided the farm,” he says. 

There’s a look of understanding that crosses Michael’s face before he moves closer. Alex backs up until his back hits the Jeep and Michael crowds into his space, holding him in place. “Your family is full of assholes. This is hardly news.” 

But there’s a world of difference between homophobic attacks, snide comments, and his brothers’ refusal to attend a wedding and murder. Because that’s what Sanders is saying happened. His family murdered Michael’s. 

“I’m so sorry,” he says, his eyes filling with tears. 

Michael rests his forehead against Alex’s as they both try to take several calming breaths. Michael’s eyes travel to Sanders then back to Alex. 

“I thought my mom died in the crash…” he pauses a long while. Alex can see him working to process everything. “Hearing she lived long enough to protect me…” 

Michael bends over to place a kiss to the top of Nora’s head then looks back up at Alex. “I have to believe this is what she was protecting me for. So that I could live. Have a family. Be happy.” 

“Michael…” he starts, not even knowing what he can say to that, but Michael cuts him off. 

“Stop,” he says. “I don’t want to play what if. There’s a whole lot of suck in both of our lives. But things are good right now for us. They are so good. I have what I’ve searched my entire life for.” 

“You aren’t mad?” Alex asks, surprised. 

Michael isn’t the angry boy he once was that year after high school when everything was awful and it seemed like his entire life was falling apart. Years of marriage have soothed a lot of old scars for both of them. But there are still some topics that regularly get him worked up, and typically, talking about how he’d grown up alone, abandoned by everyone, is one of them. Now, here they stand, finding out that the reason he grew up alone, without a mother, is entirely Alex’s family’s fault. 

“At your family? Always,” Michael says, resting his hand just to the left of Nora’s head, against his heart. He can hear what goes unspoken. Michael isn’t angry at him. 

Alex hears the sound of gravel crunching and when he looks over, Sanders has moved closer. “I’ve known many Manes men in my time. Each one a special brand of hateful asshole.” 

Alex snorts. It’s a fair assessment. “And yet you don’t seem to hate me, even when you hate virtually everyone?” 

“You aren’t your great grandfather,” he says, placing a hand on Alex’s shoulder. “And you aren’t your father.” 

The hand quickly pulls away before it can become too sentimental, thumb back in its belt loop. “My old man was a piece of work, too. Doesn’t mean we have to end up like them.” 

Michael squeezes at his hip. “You good?” he asks. 

Alex nods and Michael takes a step back to look at Sanders. “Don’t think you’re off the hook. I’ve got about 8,000 more questions. But Nora has to get to her appointment.” 

Sanders looks down at Nora and smiles. “Your momma would be proud of you.” 

He reaches out to run a finger down Nora’s little button nose, tactfully pretending that he doesn’t see Michael blushing. Alex does though and it makes him incredibly grateful, not for the first time, for Sanders presence in Michael’s life. 

You found a good man and have a beautiful little girl,” Sanders says. “I have to believe this is what she wanted for you.” 

“Me too.” Michael nods. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Sanders says, walking off towards the garage with barely a backwards wave. 

Michael carefully takes Nora out of the sling. She starts to stir, but Michael rocks her and hums a tune until she falls back asleep enough to be placed into her carseat without fuss or fanfare. Alex climbs into the driver’s seat and waits for Michael to buckle himself in, but is surprised when he climbs back out of the car and closes the door, moving to sit in the passenger seat instead. Alex gives him a curious look. He always elects to sit in the back with Nora in case she needs anything. 

Michael reaches out for his hand and pulls it into his lap. “You are not your father,” he says carefully. “And you are definitely not your great-grandfather.” 

Alex nods. Lets the words sink in. And for the first time, he truly believes them. If his family has a legacy of hate, Alex is the opposite. He loves. He accepts. When Michael told him his secret, he didn’t run away in fear, he stayed. He loved harder. Even at war, he’d always had a level of understanding for the other side. Only ever been capable of hating one man, and that’s his father. If the definition of being a Manes Man is to hate, then Alex is the furthest thing from that. 

“I know,” he says. The words are confident. Steady.

He starts the car and Michael smiles at him before fiddling with the radio, settling on a station that plays old hits from their high school days. He then sits back in his seat and stares out the window, hand still in Alex’s. They are a mile from the junkyard and a few blocks from town when Michael says, “Fucking Sanders. Can you believe he’s just been sitting on that knowledge the whole time? What the fuck?” 

Alex nods. It had certainly been a heavy truth bomb for a Tuesday afternoon. Alex hadn’t seen that coming. Ever. But despite how shocking the news about Michael’s mother was, it confirmed something that Alex has always known and appreciated about Sanders. 

“He did his best to take care of you.”

“Yeah,” Michael says, letting out a heavy sigh. “I hate the fucking system so much.” 

Michael told him that he wasn’t interested in what ifs, but ever since Sanders had told Alex he’d tried to adopt Michael when he was first found, that’s all his mind has been able to process. And how many other kids like Michael have loving homes that want them but can’t get approved? How many kids sit in the system for years without a home just so they can wait for a perfect home that won’t ever come. 

“You just have to wonder… In all of the times DCFS was called to my house and I was never removed… And all of the homes they willingly threw you into without a care as to how awful they were… How bad does a home have to be before a family can be proven unfit?” 

“And if they don’t give a shit about who they approve as a foster family, why do they care when it comes to adoption?” Michael asks. 

“I don’t know,” he says with a deep sigh. “I just keep thinking about those kids still in the system.” 

“And what level of hell they had to experience for DCFS to give a damn and put them into the system? Yeah, I think about that too. A lot,” Michael says. 

Alex glances over at him surprised, before looking back at the road. “You do?” 

Michael nods. “Does that really surprise you?” 

No, Alex guesses it doesn’t. 

“You don’t ever think that we should…” Alex trails off, doesn’t finish that thought. It’s crazy. They haven’t even had Nora a week. 

“What?” Michael looks at him, surprised but pleased, and Alex can’t help but blush. 

“Nevermind.” 

“No, say it,” Michael says. 

Alex shakes his head. 

“That we should adopt out of the system?” Michael asks for him. 

Alex nods. It’s not something they’ve talked about really. They’d pretty much gone straight from ‘we should have a kid’ to ‘let’s adopt a baby.’ But when they’d lost Lucas and then Sanders had talked about wanting to adopt Michael, Alex had thought about it. In passing. Nothing serious. He hadn’t brought it up though. The timing wasn’t appropriate and then Nora had come into their lives. 

Now though? 

“Alex Manes,” Michael says his name, voice full of amusement. “I just talked you into one baby and now you’re asking for another?” 

He blushes, shaking his head, knowing how ridiculous the entire thing sounds. 

“We wouldn’t do it right away,” Alex says. 

Michael practically beams. “No. Not right away. I mean, we have to at least get Nora to her doctor’s appointment.” 

Alex lets out a laugh at that and the thought starts to solidify in his mind a bit more. He looks in the rearview mirror at the backseat, pictures a slightly older Nora sitting next to a sibling. A brother or a sister. It feels right. 

“You’d want to?” he asks. 

Michael squeezes his hand as he says, “I would like nothing more than to fill every bedroom in our home with children to raise together.” 

Alex’s heart swells and he has to bite down a huge smile. “So, uh, we have one extra bedroom.”

“We have plenty of backyard, I’m sure I can add on another room,” Michael says. “Why? How many were you thinking we’d have?” 

Alex shrugs. “I don’t know. I only just wrapped my mind around the fact that Nora is ours. How many did you want?” 

Michael shrugs as well and starts to hum a tune that is distinctly different than the song playing on the radio. It takes Alex another few blocks to place the song, and it’s because it’s more country than the indie stuff Alex listens to. But he’s heard Michael listening to it enough in the last few weeks to recognize it, and the moment he does, he starts to laugh, happily, before he sings along. 

“I swear to god I can see, four kids and no sleep.” 

Michael keeps his eyes trained ahead but he squeezes Alex’s hand tight as he finishes singing, “We’ll have one on each knee, you and me.” 

Alex turns into the parking lot of the doctor’s office and parks near the entrance before turning off the car and shifting in his seat to look at Michael better. “We might need a bigger house if we are gonna have four kids,” he says, finding that he doesn’t hate the idea in the slightest. 

“We’ve got time,” Michael says, raising their hands so that he can place a kiss to the back of Alex’s. 

They’ve got time. Especially once he tells Michael about his plan to retire from the Air Force once his contract is up next month so that he can be home on a permanent basis. 

Yeah. They’ve got time. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To everyone that came on this journey with me, thank you. I deeply appreciate it <3


End file.
